


Change of Plan

by Claireton



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Other, no you dont actually date all those people but i dont know another way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 59,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claireton/pseuds/Claireton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been hired to 'borrow' some files from Tony Stark, but things don't exactly go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Claireton! Let's add another fic on top of the ones you barely update! Great idea!
> 
> Sorry guys but I've been reading a lot of these fics lately and I just NEED to write one for myself or I'll go crazy. I've been playing a lot of Mirror's Edge lately too, so i'm super geeking out about parkour/ climbing right now. Expect to see some of that here. I haven't actually decided yet who your love interest, if you have one, is, so excuse my excessive x/reader taggings.
> 
> I don't know a super ton about the Marvel Universe, but I'll do my best to entertain you!

You let out a tense breath and you peered around the corner of a hallway. It was deadly silent here, which was at the same time comforting and distressing.

You had been hired by a woman under the name of 'Karma', or at least, you believed it to be a woman. Most of the time their henchmen did the talking for them, and your only direct contact with them had been a very brief phone call. You had been tasked with retrieving some files from Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries, Iron Man. You weren't exactly sure what the files detailed, but then, you didn't have to know. All you had to know was that you were getting paid to get these files, and it was no small sum either. Whatever intentions your employer had for them, you could probably just buy away your regret. That was what you did with the money you had earned on your previous missions so far, anyway. You didn't believe yourself to be a completely bad person, but it just happened to be that most of the time, those with less admirable intentions were the ones who would hire you to get what they wanted.

Your employer had apparently spent over two years trying to break through all the systems to allow you access to the tower, and they were _extremely_ insistent that you do not screw up on this mission, or there would be dire consequences. Up until this point, it had been quite easy getting inside, but as you neared closer to those files, you knew things would quickly take a turn for the worse.

You kept a lookout on the hallway for a minute, and once you were quite certain nobody was going to appear, you began sneaking down to the other end. You knew it wasn't long until you finally retrieved the files, and with each step your heart rate increased ever so slightly. By now, you had become used to the fear of getting caught, but this job was on a whole other level. Usually, you would be stealing from the boss of some lowly gang, or an apartment, but now you were stealing from one of the most powerful men you could think of. At least with the mob bosses you could outrun them. You didn't see much hope in outrunning a flying suit of armor.

You came to a large wall covered in glass, and peered through for a moment, trying to identify anything moving inside. When it appeared that the coast was clear, you moved over to a keypad on the glass and carefully entered the code your employer had given you. They had assured you that it would work, but even so, you winced as you pressed the final digit, expecting lasers or machine guns to pop out of the ceiling. Thankfully, the keypad gave a pleasing chirp as it recognized the keycode, and one of the glass panes slid sideways to allow you entrance.

You stepped inside and swiveled your head around, still on the lookout for any potential threats. You would have liked to have been pleased with how smoothly this was going, but it was all far too suspicious. Here you were breaking into the Avengers' tower, yet you hadn't met a single sliver of resistance yet? Something wasn't right. You were starting to regret never taking any weapons with you, but they always weighed you down and just got in the way when you needed to run. Besides, you weren't useless when it came to hand to hand fighting.

You moved across the large room, which appeared to be a workshop of sorts. Pieces of metal lay scattered here and there, some of it serving no apparent purpose while some were half attached to something else. One thing that quickly caught your eye, and then made you avert it, was a bright red beam that protruded from a machine in the middle of the workshop. At that moment, it didn't seem to be doing anything in particular, but you had a nagging feeling that passing under the beam would result in some very quick and painful removal of limbs. It was slightly strange that it was the only machine in the room that seemed to be on, but you shook it off and kept looking for the cabinet with the briefcase that your files was supposedly in. You weren't paid to stand around gawking at machines.

At last you found the cabinet nearby, and gave it a look over before you moved closer. It looked like it weighed about fifty times your size, and though only a single drawer lay in it, it was surrounded by thick steel. Once you came within range, another keypad appeared in front of you. You looked at it and sighed triumphantly, knowing your mission was coming to an end. You quickly pressed in the numbers you were given, now confident in your employer's abilities to break the codes of the machines. You stood back and waited for the drawer to slide out. Instead of the tone of succession you were expecting, however, an high pitched ringing blasted from the keypad, causing you to flinch in surprise and cover your ears. A panic quickly spread throughout your body. Your employer had given you the wrong code, and if you didn't think fast, you didn't like to think of what would happen to you after you were discovered.

The first thought that came to your mind was to re enter the code into the keypad, hoping you had gotten it wrong the first time and this would silence it, but the keypad no longer responded to your fingers and you kicked the cabinet with frustration. Desperately trying to ignore the fact that there were people headed for the room right now, you looked around wildly for a solution to your problem. Looking over to the laser from earlier, you had no time to second guess yourself as you sprinted over to the machine. After looking it over for a second and seeing that it was on a swivel, you heaved the machine a few feet towards the cabinet, grunting with the weight. You stood behind the machine and tried to angle the beam towards the cabinet, only to curse in frustration when it snapped off of its hinges and fell, searing the floor as it dropped. You bent and gripped the device from as far from the laser as possible, hoisting it up and pointing it at the cabinet. Sparks flew and eventually the top half of the cabinet crashed to the floor. You recklessly threw the device to the side and sprinted over to the cabinet, ripping the briefcase from its velvet casing. You hugged it close to you and stopped as you realized the alarm had suddenly ceased ringing. Anticipating what was coming next, you slowly turned to see Tony Stark himself glaring at you from a few feet away, his arms folded. Thankfully, he wasn't in his suit. Not yet, anyway.

"You know, many women have done many things to get my attention," he stated, looking downwards and he took a step towards you.

"But breaking into my home? Now _that's_ a new one." he finished, raising his head again and looking you in the eye.

You were helpless at how to react to this. You could be happy that he appeared to be misinterpreting the situation, or offended that he thought you would come all this way just to sleep with him. Although he stared directly at you, there was no feeling of animosity in his glare. It felt more as though he were observing you, trying to guess your next move rather than planning to attack you. Well, if that made it easier for you to put up a fight, then so be it.

You contemplated a response, but before you could answer another voice came from the entrance to the room.

"Is everything all right?" asked a man's voice.

Your head snapped to the side, looking at the doorway, and you found a man you recognized as Steve Rogers, or Captain America, waiting there. His expression shifted from one of concern to determination as his gaze turned from Tony to you. You sighed mentally at his arrival. Whatever slim chances of putting up a fight against Tony you had had had just evaporated to thin air. You took a small step back and bumped into the cabinet, hissing as the still heated metal sizzled against your skin for a brief second. With nowhere else to run, you clutched the briefcase tighter and tried to think of a way out of your predicament. If only you hadn't to carry the briefcase with you, you were pretty confident that you could outrun them, but it just wasn't so.

"Put the briefcase down." commanded Steve, slowly starting to make his way around the chunks of metal in the room.

For the first time in your career, you actually considered surrendering. It would always be your last resort, but you simply couldn't see any other options. Time seemed to slow as you thought about all the consequences of giving up. Your perfect record would be shattered. Would anyone ever trust you with a job again? You could end up homeless on the streets. If that wasn't bad enough, you were certain 'Karma' wouldn't let this go so easily either. No, you had to fight. Your life was over either way, so you might as well go out swinging.

You carefully set the briefcase down beside you and looked around for anything you could weaponize. If it was going to be two versus one, then you thought it fair that you should get a weapon. The only thing you could see at the moment was the laser that you had used to open the cabinet, which had fallen pointing out of the windows, leaving a hole in the glass. You decided on it as your weapon, but the difficult part was getting to it past Tony, and even then you weren't sure how effectively you could use it. You sank into a stance, getting ready to sprint for the device, but just as your feet were about to leave the ground, you saw something large appearing in the window behind Tony. Clearly, you weren't able to hide the surprise on your face, as Tony raised an eyebrow himself and turned to the window.

A deafening cry of shattering glass rang throughout the room, and it took you a moment to realize that the sparks of light erupting on the floor were bullets. The noises stopped for a moment, and you heard frenzied yelling, but all you could focus on was the helicopter flying dangerously close to the tower. Though it constantly hovered side to side, you managed to focus on the man standing in the back of the helicopter. He was one of the men that Karma had sent to speak with you whenever she wanted to discuss the mission. Almost on instinct, you snatched back up the briefcase and bolted toward the window. There was no other way out of this situation. If you gave up, your life would be over, and likewise if you got caught. You didn't see either of the two men as you ran, but you didn't care about that for the moment.

Coming as close to the edge as you dared, you leapt out of the window and towards the helicopter.

Your free hand managed to cling onto one of the landing rails of the helicopter, the other keeping its vice grip on the briefcase. After a brief moment of convincing yourself that you had really made it, you looked up to the man in the helicopter, who now stood bending over the edge.

"Throw up the briefcase!" he hollered, holding out a hand.

Crying out with the effort, you swung up the hand holding the briefcase, which he quickly seized into his chest. You kept your hand raised, waiting for him to take hold of it.

"Pull me up!" you cried, the muscles in your arm starting to scream with exertion.

The man looked down to you with a smile that made your blood run cold.

"Sorry," he grinned. "Your contract's expired."

You had no time for an answer before he stomped on your hand, causing you to cry out and release your grip. The door of the helicopter closed immediately, the man inside not even taking a second glance at the woman he had just sent falling to her death.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Enjoy!

Despite the extreme resistance working against you, you managed to flip your body and face the ground you so quickly hurdled towards. The harsh vibrations in your chest told you you must have been screaming, but you couldn't hear anything for the wind howling in your ears. You knew that your line of work would get you killed sooner or later, but you couldn't have known when. You had hoped it would at least be another few years.

As you plummeted, you observed the streets below, full of people. From here, they seemed like specks on the pavement, little ants in this huge city. How did they go about their days? Waking up in the morning, going to work, coming home, sleeping. Repeating that each and every day? You didn't think you could have lived such a mundane lifestyle, even if it had been your choice. Where was the excitement in their lives? Granted, some of them probably preferred not to be shot at at least once a week, but then what was the point in living if it wasn't for the thrill? Though it may have been the cause of a premature death, you preferred your dangerous lifestyle to the boring activities of the normal citizen. However short it my have been, at least you had lived your life the way you wanted.

Due to the rising panic and the force of the wind, it became harder and harder for you to breathe with each second. You managed to force your mouth closed and try to breathe, trying to savour these last precious moments. A peculiar sense of tranquility began overpowering your fear the longer you fell. You didn't want to die, yet this peace you hadn't felt in a very long time embraced you and helped you to accept your fate. Finally, you managed to snap your eyes shut and await your death.

The last of your breath was taken when something hard slammed into your side, causing you to cry out in pain. Your eyes flew open to see the ground moving farther away from you instead of closer. Your head surged with adrenaline and panic as you tried to understand what was happening. Was the impact you hitting the ground? Had you died? No, you couldn't have died. It felt too real. You managed to turn your head to the side and found none other than Iron Man himself carrying you back up towards the building. Your brain burned with activity, questions and fears that dogged at you until you just couldn't take it any more and your world faded to black.

\-----

You stood in a seemingly endless warehouse. Shelves of boxes and random items formed hallways around you, rising further than your eye could see in the dim lighting. You peered forward, trying to find where it all ended, but all you could see was an unending darkness. A chill overcame your body as you spun full circle looking for any signs of life. Finding nothing, you began walking forwards, trying to find an exit from this sinister place. You turned corner after corner searching, but nothing seemed to change. No matter where you walked you were surrounded by shelves of boxes and this intense darkness. Losing hope, you moved to one of the shelves and began poking at a crate. Maybe there was something inside that could help you get out of here.

When pulling at the edges proved fruitless, you pulled the box to the ground in hopes of kicking it open. However, as soon as the box hit the floor, it splintered into uncountable pieces and something black flew out of the mess towards your face. You cried out as tiny claws raked across your skin, drawing blood. You raised your arms to your face in an effort to protect yourself as the creature cawed loudly, but the claws simply turned to lacerating your forearms. Suddenly, you felt another set of claws ripping at your flesh, and another, more and more adding to the pile with each passing second. You kept your arms wrapped around your head, desperate to protect your face, and sunk down to your hunkers, trying to make the available skin to attack as small as possible.

As suddenly as it had began, the attack stopped, the sudden shift from extreme noise to silence making your ears ring. Though the creatures had disappeared, the gashes on your skin remained, and you became aware of a new presence in the shadows. Cautiously looking around you in fear of more attacks, you hissed with pain as you stood up. You tried to peer through the darkness at this new figure, but the more you tried to focus, the darker the shadows seemed to become. You opened your mouth to ask who it was, but no sound left your mouth. You clasped your throat in worry and tried again, but still no sounds came out. Your lips formed the words, and you could feel the air leaving your throat, but not a single note left your lips. It was as if someone had pressed a mute button on a television.

Though you could not see the figure, you felt them smile in the darkness. You wanted to step forward and find out who they were, but your panic at losing your voice left you immobilized, staring at where you assumed their face to be. A slender hand rose from the figure into the light, pointing at you before falling back to its owner again. From the sides of the figure came two men in suits, both holding rather large guns. Your eyes widened in fear and you looked up to their faces, but their features seemed to constantly alter before your eyes, never settling into a specific face shape. Knowing there was no other option for you, you turned to run but smacked into a hard surface behind you. You stood back and stared in confusion at this wall that had appeared out of nowhere. It stretched both up and to the sides infinitely, leaving you closed in with these two men. Your head whipped from side to side frantically, and just when you had decided to try leap through one of the shelves to the other side, a loud shot from one of the guns rang from behind you.

\--

You awoke with a loud gasp, shooting up and looking around you wildly. At first, you believed yourself to be in your bed, and you relaxed, but it quickly struck you that you did not recognize this room at all. Standing up slowly, you winced when your right hip stung in protest, and you came to realize that you had been passed out on a couch. The events of earlier flooded your mind, and you groaned as you understood what was happening. Tony must have brought you back up here so that he could hand you over to the authorities, or whoever he wanted to. Regret and anger burned in your chest as you thought of your betrayal from earlier. After all the trouble you had gone through to help them, they had so quickly abandoned you and left you to die. Perhaps it was time to start reconsidering your life choices. But not now. Right now, you had to find a way out before you were sent to jail.

You inspected the room around you from where you stood, soaking in every detail in case they came in handy. You appeared to be in a living room of sorts. A large, flat screen TV hung on the wall across from you, and a large window next to the TV gave quite an interesting view of the city below. There was only two pathways out of the room. One led to a forked hallway, leaving you the choice of going either left or right, while the other did the same, but also held a set of metal doors, which you assumed to be an elevator, at the end. Deciding that leaving quicker is better, you took a step towards the elevator and cursed when your shin whacked off of a coffee table. You looked down at the offending object and raised an eyebrow when you found a handgun laying on it. You stared at the gun blankly for a moment, unsure what to do. Why would they leave a weapon so close to you? Perhaps someone had been guarding you with it and had just left for a moment to do something. All the more reason to leave now.

You picked up the gun and held it rather awkwardly in your two hands. You had only ever fired one on one occasion, after which you promptly decided you would stick to hand to hand, if running didn't work out. At least with your body you could control how much damage you inflicted. Guns were pretty much made to kill things, and you liked to avoid that where possible.

Moving slowly, you began making your way towards the elevator. As soon as you entered the hallway itself, the situation instantly became more tense. Your grip tightened on the gun as you neared the corners, expecting someone to turn at any second and jump on you. Before you left the hallway, you took a final cursory glance behind you just to be sure, and froze when you found someone standing just a few meters away.

You whipped around, holding the pistol in a death grip, and recognized your tail as Captain America. For a few moments, you both stood tensely, silently staring into each others eyes. You couldn't stop the tremors that shook your body, making it near impossible to aim the gun. You had never shot anyone before, and you certainly didn't want your first to be him. He might be your enemy for now, but you knew that he wasn't a bad person. Everyone knew that. Even if he jumped at you here and now, you didn't think you could pull the trigger.

You stepped backwards slowly, never lowering the gun, and felt around at the wall until you heard a button click. Hoping that no one else was on their way, you kept the gun pointed in his direction. After a few moments, he raised his hands and took a cautious step towards you.

"Don't move!" you cried, your voice sounding much more desperate than you had intended. Only once you opened your mouth did you realize how dry your throat was.

You repeated your order when he took a step closer, but still you could not bring yourself to pull the trigger. The gun shook as you hand clenched with frustration. He kept moving closer to you, and if you didn't do something soon, he was going to be on you. At last, you heard the elevator's doors pull open and you quickly stepped back into it. At this, the Captain began running towards you, sending your brain into a frenzy. He'd be at you in a matter of seconds, but you truly did not want to injure him in any way. It just wouldn't feel right knowing you had injured, or even killed someone like him. As a last ditch effort, you took the gun in one hand and tossed it at him, which caused him to duck out of the way and slow down. You hammered the button for the bottom floor as fast as your fingers would allow you, and after what seemed like an eternity, they finally snapped shut and left you alone.

You realized how insanely fast your heart beat was and tried to take some deep breaths to get it under control. You weren't out of the water just yet, but you may as well try to calm yourself down while you can. While you breathed, you tried, unsuccessfully, to imagine how you would get out of the bottom floor. With any luck, there wouldn't be a squad of people aiming rifles at you the second you stepped out. You finally brought your breathing to a sensible rhythm, and decided to stretch out your limbs while you waited. If you found yourself sprinting away, it wouldn't do to get a cramp before you even got ahead. You had just finished stretching out your shoulders when you felt the shudder of the elevator suddenly stopping. Groaning in frustration, you turned back and started mashing the bottom floor button again, but the entire panel was completely dark. You slammed your fist against the panel in anguish and shook your head. You were fairly certain that this was no coincidence.

Unable to think of anything else, you moved to the elevator doors and tried to maneuver your fingers between the separation in the middle. Maybe you could pull it open somehow. You pushed and twisted your fingers again and again until they pained you, and eventually you gave up, giving the door a rough kick in retaliation. Accepting your fate again, you leaned your back against the doors and slid down to the floor, awaiting your captors to come collect you. When you had finally relaxed to a state of indifference, a strange crackling was heard from above you. You looked up in curiosity before an unfamiliar voice came through.

"Now that you've settled down and accepted your position here, we have a question for you." the voice stated.

You perked up and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the voice to continue. It felt strange being able to hear a voice but see no apparent source, though that was the least of your concerns right now. The voice did not resume after a few moments, and you feared they had given up for your lack of response, so you quickly stated the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm listening." you stated.

You heard the crackle again, and after a slight pause, the voice continued.

"How would you like to become an Avenger?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Those of you who have read all of my fics might be getting a little fed up with the dream things, but you'll just have to live with it, I LOVE writing dream sequences >:L.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Still haven't fully decided on a love interest yet, but to be honest it's better that way. As soon as I pick one, people that don't like that character will probably stop reading :C.

You frowned and shook your head in confusion. You must have heard wrong. It sounded as if they had just asked you to join the Avengers. You came to the conclusion that you had never really woken up, you must still be asleep. It wouldn't be the first time you had realized your were dreaming. You casually pinched your forearm to try jolt yourself awake. Expecting yourself to wake up quickly, you frowned when your surroundings stayed the same. Usually, a good pinch was enough to rouse you, and it hardly hurt at all while in a dream. You attempted it again, hissing with pain as you dug your nails into your skin. You were slowly starting to believe that you might just be awake at this moment. The ceiling crackled again, but this time, the familiar voice of Tony Stark came through instead.

"If you're trying to off yourself, there are faster ways than pinching yourself to death. You could also just refuse, you know." he stated.

Once again, you found yourself unsure how to respond to this man's words. It was strange that he was acting so sarcastic and unprofessional towards someone that he had pretty much kidnapped, but then he wasn't really known for being the epitome of professionalism.

Deciding that this was actually real, you thought about what was being offered to you. Why on earth would they invite you to become an Avenger? You had been trying to steal files from one of their members not twenty four hours ago, and you had just aimed and thrown a gun at one of the others. Perhaps it was all a ploy that get you to come quietly. You pushed yourself off of the floor and straightened out your clothes. If you did become an Avenger, what exactly would you do? You didn't have any special abilities, like Captain America, or a suit like Tony's, and you certainly didn't have any god given magic, like Thor. You couldn't see your skills coming in useful for the team in any way.

Before you had the chance to answer, however, the elevator came to life again, seemingly moving of its own accord. You glanced at the panel in nervousness, wondering if you should still try for the bottom floor and an escape. If it turned out that you couldn't, or wouldn't join the Avengers, then what? Would they hand you over to the authorities instead? Maybe they would keep you as a prisoner here. A bit far fetched, but at this point you believed anything within the realm of possibility.

Eventually, you decided to just let the elevator go for where it was headed, and braced yourself for whomever may be waiting outside. A small part inside of you hoped Steve wouldn't be there, or it might become somewhat awkward, what with you having thrown a weapon at his head and all. The elevator came to a stop, and you took a breath, preparing yourself for what was to come next. Your heart was beating faster than you would have liked to admit, but you managed to keep a face of indifference as the doors pulled open.

The first face that entered your vision was that of a dark skinned man. He was deadly serious and covered his left eye with a black eye-patch. As if his grim expression and intimidating atmosphere didn't give him enough of a frightening presence, he also donned a large black trench coat that aided him in looking even taller than he was. Around him stood various people, one you recognized as Black Widow, a highly dangerous assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D., and definitely not someone you would want to fight in the midst of an escape attempt. Beside Black Widow stood another man, and by comparison of his attire to the people that stood around him, he was likely also a part of the Avengers. You couldn't remember his name, but you knew that he was just as dangerous as Black Widow. It was far too late to turn around at this point.

Since there was no turning back, you made an attempt to seem confident, despite being heavily outnumbered. You straightened your back slightly and stepped out of the elevator slowly, biting your tongue to stop yourself accidentally gasping in a shaky breath. You struggled to keep eye contact with the one eye that the man had uncovered, finding his stare piercing and intimidating. You stood and waited for _anyone_ to say something, but the sound of the elevator doors closing again was the only one that filled the air. Your faux confidence broke momentarily when you couldn't endure the staring any longer, instead flicking your eyes to the floor. Clenching your fists with nervousness, you decided you would have to be the one to break this silence. You drew a breath only to be cut off.

"Ms.(Lastname)," the dark skinned man began. He spoke with an authoritative and strong voice.

"As you have heard, we have offered you a position as a part of the Avengers team."

You opened your mouth to speak again, but he continued without notice.

"Were you to accept, you would receive training on how to properly conduct yourself as an agent, and, by extension, would become a member of S.H.I.E.L.D." he finished.

You licked your teeth as you thought about his offer. There had to be something more to it, but by everything you had heard so far, it actually didn't sound so bad. You took a quick glance towards Black Widow and her companion. Black Widow's stare was void of emotion, almost calculating. That was no surprise; She wasn't exactly known for her overflowing emotions. Her companion seemed to be frowning. Working with those two might not be the brightest, or safest, idea. On the other hand, working for S.H.I.E.L.D. might prove beneficial for you. You wouldn't have to worry about who was going to hire you next anymore, and you need not worry about what was going to happen after the jobs you completed. Still, this offer was just too random to not have a downside to it.

"Of course, that would also mean that you can't continue with your current occupation." he confirmed.

"Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. do not 'collect' items for criminals."

You felt somewhat ashamed hearing this. Obviously you had known that most of the people you had worked for were not good people, but hearing someone say it out loud brought a painful bout of regret to you. It also inspired some peculiar feeling of righteousness inside, as if wanting to right all the wrongs you had done.

"I need an answer, Ms.(Lastname)" the man stated.

You sighed, letting the pressure get to you. It wasn't going to be easy, adjusting to life as an honest worker, and actually working for part of a company, but at the same time, you were ready to give up your old life. Especially after the betrayal you had experienced only hours earlier. You decided to just go for it. The man hadn't detailed what would happen if you refused, but you didn't imagine it would work out in your favour. You nodded slightly and looked him in the eye again.

"I accept." you answered.

The man nodded, but his facial expression did not change. You blinked when his hand suddenly rose towards you, and after a hesitant moment, you shook his hand. It was an oddity to shake anyone's hand to seal a deal in your former line of work, but it brought a sense of accomplishment that eased your spirits. You could feel the atmosphere of the room lighten ever so slightly with the handshake too, but even as you cast a glance to Black Widow and her companion, the features remained the same. You didn't know why you had expected them to look friendlier.

"Have you any questions?" the man asked.

In truth, you had many questions. Would you live here with the other Avengers? Why did they invite you to the team? How often would you go on missions? What kind of training would you receive? These questions and more bombarded your brain at a mile a minute, leaving you to panic as to which one to ask. He likely didn't want to stick around and answer questions for long, so you would have to be careful as to which one you picked.

"Why me?" you decided to ask. "Why not just lock me up and find someone with a clean record?"

It likely sounded as if you were ungrateful for the opportunity you were given, but you had to know the reasoning behind this all. There had to be more to it than met the eye. The man did not give any strange looks, as you had predicted, but answered calmly.

"We've been tracking your progress for a while." he declared.

"You have a set of skills that we would find use for in our work."

You made an effort not to narrow your eyes at him. He hadn't really answered your question. As you had guessed, you had no time for another question as he began walking around you, followed by all of the other agents bar Black Widow and friend. You turned to him as he entered the elevator. Once in, he turned himself and looked you in the eye, and you swore you caught the smallest of smirks on his face.

"We will be here to collect you at 0700 hours tomorrow. Do not be late or we will have to reconsider your position." he ordered.

You stood unsure what to say, letting the elevator doors close. Now that the majority of them had left, you felt somewhat less pressured, but with the two super assassins standing only a few feet away, your nerves and the tense atmosphere refused to lessen. You turned to them quickly, something in the back of your mind worrying that they would jump on you if you stopped paying attention. To your surprise, it was Black Widow who broke the awkward silence by stepping forward and raising her hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Natasha Romanoff." she smiled. The sudden shift from completely indifferent to friendly was somewhat startling.

"(Firstname) (Lastname)." you responded, shaking her hand.

Her eyes lingered on yours for a moment before she turned back to her companion. You could see her incline her head ever so slightly, probably trying to get him to come over and greet you, but he stood his ground, making no attempt to hide his glares at you. Natasha sighed and turned back to you with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry. He's a little wary around new people." she explained.

Her companion scoffed and turned around, walking down the hallway without a word. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed, though you weren't sure why. It suddenly hit you how early you would be collected tomorrow. You didn't even know what time it was now. It seemed to have been getting bright when you looked out of the window a few minutes ago.

"Hey, do you know what time it is?" you requested.

Natasha lifted her arm and peered at a handsome black watch.

"About three am?" she stated.

"Three am?!" you repeated in despair. There was no way you'd be able to get ready _and_ get any sleep in time to be collected.

"Is something the matter?" Natasha asked, eyeing you curiously.

"There's no way I'll be ready in time." you said. "My home's at least an hour away from here."

"Well, your things will be here soon." she stated. "Why not just wait?"

What did that mean? Your 'things'?

"What do you mean?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"Oh that's right, Fury didn't tell you." she answered. "Well, since you accepted the offer as part of the team, you'll be staying here from now on. We sent for all of your things to be collected from your old house and brought here."

You were at a loss for words, staring at her blankly with your mouth opened slightly. Did she really just say that? People had been _sent_ to pick up your personal property without your permission, to help you settle into this new home you didn't agree to live in? An anger bubbled in your chest, and was only fueled as Natasha gave a small smirk.

"Sorry, I guess we should have told you earlier."

You sighed. Of course they should have told you earlier. What an idiotic thing to say. You knew better than to insult her with no witnesses around, though, so you held your tongue.

Life as an Avenger wasn't going to be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the chapter! (even though it probably housed like 10 minutes in the time of the fic's universe? probably not even :(.)
> 
> I have some action planned for the next chapter, so keep your eyes peeled for the update!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, hope you enjoy! Sorry for taking so long!

Taking a moment from your rushing, you sat on the bed and sighed. You knew that you really didn't have time for this, but you had to catch your breath and wrap your head around what was happening.

Your things had arrived just ten minutes after Natasha had told you about your new residence. You knew that your home was at least one hour away from the tower, and them arriving so quickly was nothing sort of suspicious. The only explanation you could think of was that they must have sent for your things long before you had even woken up. After they had arrived, Natasha had escorted you to your new room and bid you farewell. That was two and a half hours ago. Between tearing through boxes for a set of decent clothing, showering, and adjusting to your new location, you had burned through most of the short time you had had to get prepared. It was irritating to think that they would go ahead of time and just assume you would accept. It made you feel as if they knew you better than you thought, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. If that was true, however, it only made it all the more confusing as to why they requested you join the Avengers in the first place. If your past was so well known, why would you be wanted on any team like the Avengers?

You cleared your thoughts and stood up quickly, scolding yourself for taking longer than a second to rest. You had to be ready to leave in an hour and a half, and there was simply no time for reflecting. You pulled on the t shirt you had chosen and sighed wistfully. You didn't know what exactly you were being collected for, but it would be better to show up in something more formal than a t shirt and jeans. Unfortunately, you hadn't bought any formal clothing in a very long time. Your lifestyle simply never called for it. The fanciest thing you owned was a dress that you had bought years ago but never really worn; It was much too small for you at this point but you had never really gotten around to throwing it away. Even if it did fit you, there was no way you would wear a dress to a meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D., especially when you weren't even sure what they wanted you for. Although you had been given a room and your things, there was still something in the back of your mind urging you to be wary of traps.

You stifled an oncoming yawn and cursed your luck. There was really no time for any rest, but your body ached with fatigue, and your eyes began struggling to remain open. You weren't sure exactly how long you had been unconscious for, but it clearly wasn't long enough. Seeing no other option, you decided that you would go grab some coffee and wake yourself up a bit. Hopefully there was a 24 hour coffee shop nearby somewhere. You stretched out before picking up your jacket from the nightstand and pulling it over you. Looking around the room one last time, you pulled on a pair of runners and walked into the hallway. You turned and observed the area carefully, trying to burn it into your memory so that you wouldn't forget where your room was. It lay on the floor where you had encountered Steve, just a hallway away from where you had woken up earlier. Somewhat confident on your ability to remember where the room was, and not having the time to stay for much longer, you turned and made your way to the elevator. Thankfully, nobody was in the living room as you walked by.  You knew that you would have to start getting along with your colleagues, and sooner rather than later, but, being tired and confused, it just wasn't the time for such affairs.

You walked down the hallway towards the elevator again, hoping a nice hot coffee would be enough to jolt you awake and keep you up through your meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D.. Thoughts of earlier came into your head, of when you had been sneaking down the hallway and trying to be as silent as possible. You had no reason to sneak now, of course, but still you tread lightly as you walked, not wanting to draw anyone's attention. Your tensed ever so slightly as you neared the end, and out of instinct, looked behind you again. This time, no one stood behind you, and you let out a sigh, telling yourself to relax. There was cold comfort in the fact that if this _was_ all a trap, it was more than likely that they would just wait to collect you first, so you were relatively safe in the tower.

You stopped at the elevator doors and pushed the button to call it, folding your arms as you waited for it to arrive. There was this nagging feeling that you were being watched, and even though a quick glance around proved this wrong as far as you could see, the feeling remained. You were likely just being paranoid about settling into your new home. It could take a while before you could really feel comfortable in it. Remembering that you were in a rush, you pressed the button again, silently pleading with the elevator to hurry up. At last you heard the familiar sound of the elevator arriving and you perked up, waiting to step inside.

The doors to the elevator opened and you did your best not to jump out of your skin as you met with Black Widow companion from earlier, who stood in the center of the elevator. At first you stepped to the side politely in case he was getting off at this floor, but he stood staring straight ahead, an iron look stuck onto his face. Thinking about how incredibly awkward, and somewhat intimidating the elevator ride might be, you considered waiting for him to go where he wanted before recalling the elevator. You were just about to let it pass, but a certain feeling of pride flared inside you. Why should you have to risk being late for this man? Why did you feel intimidated? You had as much right to use it as he did and you weren't about to let yourself be pressured out by his demeanor.

You locked your face into one of steely indifference and stepped inside. He did not move from his spot in the center of the elevator floor, so you took position in the corner closest to the grid of buttons. As you surveyed the panel looking for the ground floor, you couldn't help but notice that no lights were litten up. Why would he stay there if he hadn't picked anywhere to go? A tension took hold of your body, but you did your best not to let it show, casually pressing the ground button and waiting for the doors to close. After taking a step back from the panel, you took a glance at him, turning your head slightly more than you had intended.

Natasha had told you to call him Hawkeye. According to her, they worked together often, and he was just as dangerous as he was, and from a greater distance. Probably the best archer out there, she had said. You didn't much feel like trying to see otherwise. When you had asked with his actual name was, due to calling him by his codename constantly being a little strange, she had told you that it wasn't up to her to say that, and that he would tell you when and if he wanted to. You felt it was a little childish, but you didn't want to argue with her, or him for that matter, so you let it go. Hopefully, you wouldn't have much occasion to use his name anyway.

"What are you going to the ground floor for?" he asked suddenly.

You blinked and took a moment to register what he had said. Once your brain finally caught up, you looked over to him.

"I'm going to grab a coffee before they pick me up." you answered. To your happiness, your voice sounded indifferent and confident.

"There's no need for that." Hawkeye replied matter of factly.

Before you could answer again, he stepped towards you. Your mind instantly raced for any self defense techniques you had seen before, but you drew a blank. Not that they would make any difference against someone like him, anyway. You expected him to grab you, maybe hit your head off the wall, but instead he stepped past you and put his hands to the panel. You took a step back, collecting yourself, and became slightly embarrassed. There was no way he hadn't seen the stressed look on your face as he moved. Hopefully he wouldn't mention it.

Hawkeye took a step back from the panel to his original spot, and you stared at the panel. You hadn't seen what he had done past his back, but now the button for the ground floor was no longer lit, instead was the button for the floor two below your room's.

"What did you do?" you inquired, still staring at the panel.

"There's a coffee machine in the kitchen." he answered.

Your pride made an appearance again. You hadn't asked for him to show you where a coffee machine was. In fact, you hadn't even spoken to him before he started it. You were perfectly content to let this ride go in peace, and here he was forcing you to go to the kitchen with him. He may have been larger than you, but you weren't going to let him walk all over you like this.

"No, it's alright. I can make it." you said brusquely, moving forward to press your button again. You didn't know how he had reset it, so you would just have to wait a little longer to get where you wanted. Hopefully you wouldn't be late.

Hawkeye's hand latched to your arm, and your head snapped to him, though inexplicably you didn't feel any fear.

"I said there's a coffee machine in the kitchen." he explained, somewhat angrily.

Although your chest still burned with pride, and a rising feeling of anger, you sighed and dropped your arm. As much as it pained you to give in, you didn't want to risk losing your job before you even knew what you would be doing in it. You had a feeling that fighting with him in an enclosed space like this wouldn't fare very well for you either. You stood impatiently, waiting for the doors to open again and show you to the kitchen. Despite what had just happened, you sensed no feelings of tension between the two of you.

You stepped out quickly when the doors finally opened, disregarding Hawkeye and finding yourself immediately in a kitchen. A door at the other side of the room seemed to lead to a lounge room of sorts, but for now you were too focused on getting some coffee to care. As you walked over to the coffee machine on the counter, you took a glance at the clock: Still forty five minutes left. Brewing some coffee should only take about five, and then you have plenty of time to prepare yourself a little more. You flicked on the coffee machine and poked around in the cupboards for a cup. The first cupboard you searched came up empty, while the second held only some questionable packets of food. You opened a third and sighed upon finding only a cracked coffee mug inside. At this rate, you'd be lucky not to fall asleep before you returned to your room.

You sighed and leaned your backside against the counter, rubbing your temples. You closed your eyes as you mulled over the situation, but the dull smack of porcelain hitting wood was enough to snap them open. You turned your head to the side and stared in anguish as Hawkeye calmly filled up a mug with piping hit coffee. You swore you could feel your soul drain with every drop that left the pot. You shook your head in annoyance and closed your eyes again, trying to ignore his cruel methods. You thought about asking him where he got the mug, and saving yourself the time and embarrassment of searching more, but you had a feeling that what was he wanted, and you weren't about to give in again. You turned around and began searching another cupboard when the scraping of wood met your ear. You looked down and found the mug under you, full and ready. Hawkeye was now leaning against the counter the way you had been, staring at you indifferently.

"Drink up." he ordered. "I don't want you falling asleep and making me look bad."

You stared at the drink contemplatively for a few moments, wondering what was going on. What was with the sudden change of attitude? Whatever the cause, it was your chance to build a better relationship with him. He was your co-worker, after all.

"Thanks." you said quietly, bringing the mug to your lips. 

"What did you mean by make you look bad?" you inquired, taking a sip of the coffee.

"You'll be following me around S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters today." he explained. "I'm in charge, and I won't let you start falling asleep on me."

You stared at him blankly for a moment, bewildered. It was a given that you would need a guide, but why on earth did it have to be him? As if the other Avengers weren't enough, you were sure S.H.I.E.L.D. had at least one hundred more people that could show you around.

"Why do I need a guide?" you asked, despite already knowing the answer. "I'm not a child."

"No, but you are a wanted felon, and known for being a runner, so..." Hawkeye answered sharply.

Though you wished to argue more, everything he had said was true. You did prefer running to fighting, and you didn't exactly have the cleanest of records, so you supposed it wasn't entirely unreasonable for them to assume that you would make a break for it. You took another deep gulp of the coffee, and sighed as energy flowed through your system.

"Alright, fair enough." you responded.

As soon as you had finished your mug, Hawkeye took it from your hands and carelessly lobbed it into the sink, where it clanged loudly. No wonder so many were missing.

"Come on, let's go." he commanded, turning for the elevator without waiting for your response.

You jogged to keep up with his fast pace and jumped into the elevator beside him, which had not moved since your entry. He pressed the button for the ground floor, and you couldn't help but feel a little pressured with how fast he had started moving through everything.

"Why are we leaving now?" you asked. "We still have like half an hour."

"Better to be early." he stated.

You went to respond, but an intense wave of exhaustion attacked you, temporarily dimming your eyesight, and causing you to fall roughly against the elevator wall. You managed to stay upright, but your rapidly deteriorating leg strength ensured this would not remain true much longer. You managed to lift your head to Hawkeye, but instead of a look of concern, he simply stood with a face of indifference as you struggled to remain conscious. 

You dug your fingers into a ridge in the wall and desperately fought against the continuous waves of fatigue that wracked your body. Eventually, your limbs gave in, and you crumpled to the floor, face pressed against the cold linoleum. The last thing you saw before passing out was Hawkeye's boots making their way towards you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter! I'm afraid I may have told a little fib when I said there would be action in this chapter. I planned for it but new ideas came into my head and I just had to get this published today because it's already so late :C.
> 
> I'll try have another up soon, but with exams for this week and next, and what with getting braces tomorrow and all, I have a few excuses.. er, REASONS to not update very quickly. Please don't hate me, I love you all! <333


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

You managed to pull your eyes open enough to find yourself laying in the back seat of a large vehicle. Through blurry vision, you could see the tinted windows of the vehicle blocking most of the light, but still you could recognize that the vehicle you were in was traveling quite fast. Despite your body protesting for a longer rest, you gripped the back of the passenger's seat in front of you and pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Peering over, it took a minute to recognize him, but you eventually realized that Hawkeye sat in the driver's seat. He had obviously heard you shuffling, but his eyes did not falter from the road for a second. You remembered what had happened in the elevator, and an anger lit inside you, but it was considerably dulled by the drugs still working through your system. You weren't sure that you could remain conscious for much longer, so you decided to try to find out as much as possible quickly.

"Wha' dih you do to me?" you slurred, tongue heavy. It was quite embarrassing to be talking like a small child, but for now you didn't care.

"I made my job easier." he replied, still not turning to face you. "If I drug you, I don't have to worry about you attacking me and bringing me to your little criminal gangs for ransom."

You narrowed your eyes, but quickly forced them open again, fearing that if you closed them fully you might drop off again. What was his problem with you? You may not have had the most agreeable past, but you hadn't done anything to make him distrust you. You remembered what Natasha had said about him meeting new people. Even so, this seemed a bit drastic.

"I'm no' gonna adack you." you protested. Your body threatened to shut down again, but you gripped the back of the seat tightly, hoping the pain in your fingers would wake you up.

"I know you aren't. You'd be an idiot to try under the effects of those." he remarked. "Now go back to sleep. I don't want you to know how to reach S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q. until they think they can trust you."

You shook your head as fervently as you could in your state, and remained clutched onto the backrest. No way you were going back under by choice. He had no right to treat you like this, especially when it had been made clear that you were welcomed.

"No." you muttered, staring out of the windshield. Unfortunately, your still hazy vision meant you could only see coloured shapes fly past on the road, and tall rectangles of buildings. There was no way you could know exactly where you were right now.

Suddenly, the jeep veered to the right and slammed to a halt in a parking space. Your chest crashed against the seat and you grunted as a pain wired through you. You turned your head to Hawkeye, who now turned his head to you, an intimidating glare in his eyes.

"Lie down, and go back asleep. Now." he ordered.

You could see his hands clench the steering wheel, but you glared back defiantly, determined to show that him that he wouldn't get away with acting like this. You still had no desire to fight him, but you knew that he wouldn't dare in a public place like this. His superiors probably wouldn't take too kindly to you showing up battered and bruised on the first day either, especially if you explained how it came about. Hawkeye's jaw clenched with frustration.

"I'm giving you one last chance." he threatened.

Instead of repeating yourself, you stared unblinking into his eyes, tension rising between you with each second. Finally, he moved, and although you flinched slightly, he made no move towards you. Hawkeye opened the door of his seat and stepped out, slamming it closed behind him. What was he doing? You followed with your eyes as far as you were able, but once he left your peripheral vision, you were too exhausted to rotate your head. You tried focusing in with your ears, listening for angry footsteps, but all you could hear were the sounds of the city before the door closest to you flew open, Hawkeye pulling it fiercely. He placed a rough hand on your shoulder and forced you back down to your lying position, wasting no time in being careful or gentle. You wanted to resist, but it simply wasn't possible in your current state. Hawkeye towered above your head, staring down at you for a few moments. Finally, he got down on his hunkers, closing the car door most of the way so that curious eyes couldn't see what was going on. His hands rummaged around his person, seemingly looking for something.

"Whad' you doing?" you questioned, wiggling your shoulder weakly as you tried to remove his grip.

Hawkeye pulled up a small syringe and flicked it casually, inspecting the contents. Ignoring your question, he leaned closer to you and searched the skin around your neck. Without much else to listen to, you were certain you heard his breath hitch ever so slightly, but you put it down to his anger. He was probably trying hard not to slit your throat right now.

"You had your chance." he stated. "Now stay still or this is going to hurt more than I want it to."

Before you could respond, the cold metal of the syringe pierced your skin and you hissed, getting the faint sensation of its liquid entering your veins. You stared into his eyes, struggling to remain awake, but the drugs worked their magic quickly, pulling you under again.

\---

Once again your eyes opened, but this time it was due to Hawkeye shaking you roughly, his arm bending from the driver's seat to your body. When you had woken up enough, you mustered the energy to push his hand away. You sat up again, rubbing your eyes and trying not to look as helpless as you felt. You swung your legs round until you were in an upright position and leaned against the passenger's seat. Whatever Hawkeye had put in you this time, it must have been weaker than the first. Your head was clearing up much quicker than last time.

"Wakey wakey." he said, though his indifferent expression made what would normally be a cute phrase somewhat dull and patronizing.

"I  _am_ awake." you muttered. You lifted your hands to the back of your head and tried to fix your hair to a somewhat respectable state.

"Stop drugging me." you added, feeling annoyed that you had it him do it to you again.

"I will when I think I can trust you." he retorted. He had been looking out the window since you had awoken, but he took a quick glance at you before returning to it.

"What time is it?" you asked, trying to forget about the trusting thing. If he didn't trust you yet, so be it. You would just have to show him that you were trustworthy.

"7:15" he replied, without taking a look at anything that would inform him the time.

"When do we need to be inside for?" you wondered.

"7:45" he answered casually.

You stared at him for a moment before shaking your head and turning to your own window. Honestly, you didn't even want to know why he had brought you so early. You had had more than enough of him for one day, and voluntarily increasing your time talking to him might just wear your sanity away.

You spent the next half hour staring out the window as your body slowly came back to life. You didn't recognize where you were, but it certainly wasn't a secluded location, as you had presumed. Vehicle after vehicle raced by your own, and the sidewalks were full of people going about their daily business. You thought of last night, and how you had been wondering how they could live such mundane lives. As you looked on, though, it appeared to you that they might not find their lives so boring after all. In fact, the people that walked by seemed quite content with themselves. Many of them laughed and chatted away with one another, an expression of boredom never shadowing their features. It was curious to think that you could lead such wildly different lifestyles and still be perfectly satisfied with who you were and how your days went. The thought suddenly crossed your mind of what Hawkeye thought about the whole thing. You turned to him and drew a breath to speak, but, seeing him staring out the window himself, you decided to hold your tongue. He probably wouldn't answer you anyway, what's the point in asking? Turning back to the window, you stared out vacantly, absorbed in your thoughts.

Two women held hands as they walked down the street, and watching them suddenly made you think of your last relationship. Thankfully, it had ended quite well. You and an old friend had dated each other for almost two years, and although you liked him, he just wasn't entertaining enough for you. He always seemed to take things much too seriously, and he seemed to get annoyed if you ever tried to joke around a little. You had put it to him gently that your lifestyles just weren't compatible, and, to his credit, he had taken it quite graciously. Despite that, you hadn't heard from him again.

Hawkeye stole your attention with a quick tap on the arm. You turned to him and eyed him curiously, as he hadn't even turned his head toward you.

"Come on." was all he said, opening the door and stepping out without a glance your way.

You opened your own door, but quickly pull it closed again as a furious driver shot past, blaring his horn loudly at your decision. Peering anxiously out of the back window first this time, you opened the door again and stepped out, throwing it closed behind you. Looking around as you walked, you circled the car and stood beside Hawkeye on the other side, waiting for him to move. Whether you liked it or not, he was your guide, and you weren't about to get lost on your first day because he left you behind. He began walking straight ahead towards a towering building, with you close behind. You weren't sure what you expected, but it was more than a regular building in the middle of a city. A strange sense of disappointment burned in you, but you told yourself that you were just being silly and dismissed it.

Hawkeye entered the building, not bothering to hold the door for you and almost letting it smack you in the face. You stared daggers into the back of his head, and sighed defeatedly when he didn't bother to see if you were alright. He was truly acting like a child, but you didn't want to mention it or he would probably get some kind of satisfaction from knowing he got to you. This probably wasn't the place to strike up a fight with one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most respected agents either. He led you through a bare looking reception area, straight to a much larger room with people bustling about. Some ran around with uncountable numbers of sheets in their hands, some slurped on steaming coffees, and some sat at desks, clacking away on the keyboards. It was a new and exciting feeling, being in a workplace full of people with like minded goals. It certainly wasn't anything you were used to. You momentarily forgot about Hawkeye's behaviour and looked up at him expectantly, waiting for to him start explaining. To your dismay, instead of uttering a single word, he continued to lead you through this room and to a door at the other end that led to a long hallway.

"Wait!" you couldn't help blurt out. "Aren't you gonna tell me about all that back there?"

Hawkeye stared at you, then raised an eyebrow when your face remained serious.

"Why? They're just desk monkeys. You won't be working there." he said.

You sighed quietly and looked away. You couldn't lie, you were a little disappointed. Even though he must have found it incredibly boring, it wasn't so for you. Seeing everyone work as one towards a common goal was somewhat inspiring.

"Fine, let's just go." you answered despondently.

Hawkeye immediately turned and walked down the hallway. It ended with a split, branching both left and right. Various doors lined the walls, and you could see door frames leading to staircases and other hallways on both sides. Hawkeye took the left route and followed the hallway, delving further and further into the depths of the building. Though you would rather it was someone else, you were glad for someone to guide you, or you would certainly lose your way in this maze of doorways and halls.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you came to a stop outside a normal looking black door. Hawkeye knocked twice then turned to you.

"Wait here. Someone will come in a minute." he ordered.

"But-" you began, intending to ask why, as his guide, he was leaving you in the labyrinth.

"When they leave you back here, do _not_ move. Don't come looking for me, don't go sightseeing, don't even look for a restroom. You stay _here_ until I come back. Clear?" he questioned.

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. He obviously had business elsewhere, so if you gave a little back now he probably wouldn't have time to correct it.

" _Yes, sir._ " you mocked, raising your hand in a salute and clicking your heels.

Contrary to your hopes, Hawkeye didn't seem phased in the slightest at your action, and in fact smirked slightly.

"Now you're gettin' it, kid." he remarked, raising a hand to ruffle your hair.

As he turned and walked away, you again glared at the back of his head. Had he thought you were serious? And what was with the hair ruffling? He jumped from cold and cruel to slightly playful in record time. Still, despite your pride, you felt as though you had forged the tiniest sliver of a connection between the two of you. Maybe it was just in your head.

After a few minutes of eerie silence, the door beside you finally swung open, snapping you out of your dazed state with a sharp gasp. You blushed inwardly as a woman ushered you into the room. A large, oval table lay in the middle, and various boards full of sheets were hung around the walls. It looked quite intimidating.

"So, I'm Lea, and this is the mission retrieval room." she announced proudly, splaying out her arms and twisting as if to show it off.

Her demeanor contrasted sharply with everything you had been shown of S.H.I.E.L.D. so far, and you couldn't help but smile lightly as she breezed around the room explaining everything. The only thing she didn't make a stab at was the large mirror that spanned the entire length of the wall to your right. Naturally, this drew your curiosity the most.

"What's that for?" you asked, gesturing to the mirror.

"Oh, well.. This room doubles as an interrogation room." she explained while waving her hand dismissively, seemingly eager to change the subject.

You frowned in confusion as she turned to inspect a file on the desk. What kind of company uses the same room for mission briefings and interrogations? Maybe instead of someone with your "set of skills", they could use someone with some common sense. Still, you didn't want to be rude to someone like her so you let it go.

Lea closed her files then checked an expensive looking watch on her wrist as she turned to you.

"Any more questions?" she beamed.

You began to shake your head, but you actually wanted to know if this is where you would have to come regularly to get your missions. Remembering the path was going to be a nightmare.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a loud crash interrupted you. Before you could process what was going on, your torso was splattered with Lea's blood as she crumpled to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I hope the drugged talk lingo wasn't too cringy for you guys :c.
> 
> Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hay hay! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Please note that I wrote this all in one day, and I'm posting it at two in the morning, so I'm quite tired and there may be some mistakes. If you find any, don't be afraid to let me know and I'll fix it!

At first, you were stunned, staring down at the body in front of you. Those pretty blue eyes that only seconds ago were filled with so much life and enthusiasm now lay half closed and looked absently across the room. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you surveyed the corpse with your eyes. Her white blouse was decorated with splashes of blood, and her trousers began to absorb the ever expanding pool of blood that streamed from her back. You had seen dead bodies before, but not many, and certainly not this close up. Though you could not form any thoughts as you looked at the body, your eyes began to haze with the threat of tears, and you could feel bile making its way up your throat. Looking at the body of someone who had been trying to kill you was entirely different from what you were looking at now. You could have stood there for hours, staring, if something in the back of your brain didn't force you to lift your head and see what had killed her.

Three figures stood at the backmost wall, clad entirely in thick, black clothing. Judging by the hole in the wall behind them, they must have blasted their way into the building. Each held quite a large rifle, which currently were all aimed at you.

"Don't move." barked one of the figures, holding their rifle steadily in your direction. You couldn't identify if the voice belonged to a man or a woman.

Your mind raced with ways to get out of this situation, but there was simply nothing you could do. With nowhere for cover, and their fingers tightly gripped on the triggers, they would mow you down in an instant if you tried to make a move. You began bending your knees to kneel in submission when your saving grace came in the form of a loud alarm ringing through the building. The figures lowered their guns momentarily and looked up at the ceiling, surprised by the sudden wailing. Before you had even processed it in your mind, your body had ran itself out of the doorway and into the hall, split seconds away from the roar of gunfire that sounded from the door frame. You could their footsteps rapidly approaching the door, and your head snapped repeatedly from side to side, debating which path to take. Your mind was in too much of a flurry to even attempt remembering which way Hawkeye had brought you, but you needed to decide quickly or it was all over.

Finally, you decided on the left path and kicked your body into gear, sprinting down the hallway as fast as your legs would carry you. You heard yells from behind you, and you knew that running straight down this narrow hallway wasn't going to keep you alive much longer. You were fast, but bullets are faster. You spied another hallway coming up on your right, and just as you heard the first sounds of gunfire, you managed to veer down in that direction instead. There was no time for celebration however, as you found yourself sprinting down a hallway that led only to a single door at the end. A keypad lay on the wall beside it, and you knew that it would be locked, but fortunately it otherwise seemed to be a regular door. At the speed you were going, you would just have to hope that you could break through it. There was no other option. Cursing your luck, you raised your arm and tensed yourself in preparation to meet the door. You turned your head away and clenched your eyes shut, not knowing if splinters would be flying out. Hopefully, they wouldn't.

You met with the door and it made a large cracking sound as it flew open, and you were going too fast to stop yourself rocketing over the edge of a staircase. You cried out in pain as your body tumbled down the hard steps, covering your face as much as possible with your forearms. After a few seconds, you came to a stop a few steps from the bottom, and although your instincts protested against it, you had to steal a few seconds to rest yourself. You moved your arms and neck around slightly, desperately hoping that nothing wrong. Most of the pain resided in your left arm, which had taken the brunt of the force from the door, with only dull pains elsewhere, but you knew that this was in large part due to the adrenaline in your system numbing you. Once it wore off, it would be a whole different story.

You clamped your hand onto the guide rail of the stairs, and you grunted with exertion as you pulled yourself up. After being turned every which way, your body needed a moment to stabilize itself and find its balance again. Sooner than you would have liked, you heard voices at the top of the stairway, calling out your location. To your relief, the slanted roof that mirrored the staircase meant they couldn't see you straight away, so you had until they came about halfway down before they could start shooting at you again. You started off by walking, testing your legs slowly before picking up speed. If and when you came into their sight again, you would need to break out into another sprint, but until then, you could slow to a jog and assess what to do next.

Wherever you had landed, it looked nothing like the building you had been in seconds ago. It looked much less like an office building and more like the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters you had expected to see the first time. Down here, all but a few doors had some sort of keypad beside them, hiding away the secrets of the organization from undeserving eyes. It made you wonder why they would bother to create two completely separate levels, but, remembering the situation you were in right now, it made sense. Still jogging down the same hallway you had entered, you couldn't help but feel a slight pang of guilt. You had quite literally given these people entrance to the lower parts of the building, and now you were leading them into its depths. No, that hadn't been the intention, but you were doing it regardless.

You stopped when you came to a side path in the hallway, thinking about whether to follow it or continue going straight. You hadn't the slightest clue where either of them led, but they likely to led to two completely different fates. You scolded yourself for taking so long to decide, but you feared taking one path and ending up dead because you should have chosen the other. There was a door beside you, but it had another keypad, and you knew you didn't have time to fiddle with it for entry. While you were in lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching from behind, and you took the side path that you had been assessing at the time. Better to try than just stand there and be filled with bullets. However, once you were a few steps in, you heard more footsteps coming from the other end of the hallway. You cursed quietly and turned on your heel, turning to the other path. More footsteps approached from this path also. Panic set in, and your whipped your head around frantically, searching for any way out of your predicament. The people that had followed you down the staircase hadn't appeared yet, but you knew waiting any longer would bring them upon you. In desperation, you turned to the door and tried jiggling the handle, but to your surprise, the door smoothly swung open, revealing a dark room. Not wanting to question this godsend, you ducked into the room and closed the door behind you, holding it tightly as you shut it to try minimize the sound. You backed away from the door, keeping your eyes on it as if it would burst open at any moment. All of the footsteps converged outside of it after a few moments, and the murmur of voices sounded through the wood. Although they couldn't possibly hear it over the alarm, you held your breath to ensure that you wouldn't be discovered. You felt your hips hit something and you turned to find a table behind you. It was difficult to see fully in the darkness of the room, and you slowly ran your hands along its surface to see what else there was to be found. If luck was on your side, there would be some sort of weapon for you to use if you were forced to defend yourself. You would run as long as you can, but you had a feeling that sooner or later you would have to fight.

Your hands met a bump in the table, and you kept feeling it over and over until something clicked and light filled the room, causing you to blink rapidly as it burned your eyes. Once your eyes had settled, you took a look around the room. It seemed to be an office of sorts, with filing cabinets in the corner and attractive paintings hung on the walls. Looking at the desk in front of you, you sighed when there was no weapons to speak of on the desk, only the desk lamp, some stationery, and a paperweight weighing down a large stack of sheets. You circled the desk and rifled through four drawers on either side of it. Nothing of interest caught your eye until you were closing the fourth drawer and something caught your attention. You reopened the drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper that had your name printed at the top. You frowned in confusion as you stared at a photo of you on the left side of the page. You recognized the area around you as a park near your home, but before you could read further, the handle of the door turned downwards. Without thinking, you stuffed the paper into the pocket of your jacket and snatched the paperweight from the table, intending to use it as a weapon if needs be. Obviously, it wasn't designed for that, but it was quite heavy, and you figured hitting the right spot could do some serious damage. You fell to a space in the desk and froze, holding your breath again to listen.

The door clicked closed softly, and at first there were no other noises, but then the sound of soft footsteps met your ears, slowly moving in your direction. You tensed in apprehension, clutching the paperweight until your knuckles turned white. You barely managed to contain a shriek when a pair of heavy black boots came into view, not more than a meter away from your own feet. Still holding your breath and almost shaking with anxiousness, you groaned internally when the boots remained where they were. You heard a ruffling noise from directly above your head, and you realized that this person was searching for something on the desk. Sheets began to flutter to the ground before you, carelessly swept off of the desk. You tried to wait that much longer for them to leave, but by now your lungs were starting to hurt you from holding your breath for so long. Like it or not, it looked like you were going to have to fight your way out of this one. As slowly and quietly as your aching body would allow, you shifted your position until you were on one knee below the desk, paperweight tightly grasped in your left hand. Drawing a sharp breath, you let out a cry and launched yourself from under the desk, swinging the paperweight towards where you hoped their temple was. rather than it connecting however, your assault was prevented with a strong grip on your wrist that stopped its progress entirely. Before you could look them in the eye, your swinging arm was roughly twisted behind you, causing you to cry out in pain, and you were slammed onto the table by a rough hand on your back. You struggled against the grip, desperate to escape, but it did not falter, and you eventually resigned yourself to whatever fate they had in store for you. You closed your eyes and waited for the moment when the trigger would pull and your life would end, but instead the grip was released. You whipped around instantly, ready to take advantage of their foolish decision, but instead of one of the people that had attacked you, you instead found Hawkeye staring at you with his arms folded.

"What the hell are-" you began shouting, but Hawkeye quickly stepped forward and clamped a hand on your mouth, glaring at you in anger.

"Stop shouting or I'll kill you myself. I'm not going to get caught because you can't keep it down." he growled.

You glowered, embarrassed at your foolishness. It  _was_ stupid of you to start shouting at him, but you were too angry to care then. Hawkeye lowered his hand when he saw that you had accepted his offer.

"What are you doing?" you demanded, much quieter this time. "You almost broke my damn arm!"

"You attacked me, so I defended myself." he responded flatly. "And I won't hesitate to do it again."

You sighed in annoyance, and although you would never admit it, you were somewhat relieved by his presence. He actually had some idea how to fight, and even if it would make you feel a little useless, you could follow him out of the headquarters. You were about to ask him how you were going to find your way out of here when you noticed something a little off about his character.

"Do..Do you have a weapon?" you asked uncertainly, running your eyes over his person repeatedly in search.

"No." he responded. You looked at him but he seemed comfortable with leaving it there.

"Why not?" you dogged, starting to get a little angered.

"I didn't bring one." he answered.

You raised your hands to your head and rubbed your temples to try calm yourself down.

"Jesus Christ, I'm not even going to bother arguing with you." you stated.

"Can you just get us out of here?"

"I was waiting for you to shut up, but yeah, I can get us out." he confirmed.

You bit your tongue to hold back a response and nodded in agreement. After waiting for another moment to ensure you weren't going to talk back, Hawkeye nodded himself then walked towards the door. You followed him, shifting your shoulder around and testing it. You hissed when a pain shot through your bones. After sitting still for so long, the adrenaline had almost entirely worn off, and Hawkeye twisting your arm all around the place certainly didn't help. You watched him slowly creak the door open and stick his head into the hallway, looking around. Once he deemed it clear, he beckoned with his right hand and stepped out of the room. You followed him out and looked up and down the halls anxiously. If those people were to come running down with their rifles now, there was next to no hope of you two making an escape. You waited for Hawkeye to make a move towards the staircase, but he started to move in the complete opposite direction. Frowning, you turned and followed him.

"Hey, where are we going?" you couldn't help but ask.

"I told you, I'm getting us out of here." he responded, not turning to look at you.

Learning from past experiences, you didn't respond and simply decided to let him do as he pleased. If you pressed further he would probably just get annoyed and threaten to leave you behind. He continued taking different paths through the hallways, and the complete lack of resistance piqued your curiosity. How was it that you had been constantly met with them on your own, but now that Hawkeye was here, there was not a soul to be seen? You burned with curiosity, wanting to ask him if he had taken some of them down on the way here, but you wanted to get out of here more, and judging by the complete lack of scratches on him, you assumed the answer was no.

At last, you came to a set of metal doors with a panel outside of them. It took you a moment to realize that it was an elevator, but why down here? What's the point in having a secret part of the headquarters locked behind a door with a keypad if you just have an elevator going straight down to it? Whatever the cause, if it was your salvation, then you wouldn't complain.

Hawkeye pressed the panel and the doors opened instantly, showing off a silver interior with a mirror facing the two of you. As you stepped in you took a look at Hawkeye's face in the reflection. He didn't seem to be stressed in the slightest, whereas you looked like you were ready to cry at any second. To try preserve your self pride, you convinced yourself that Hawkeye was used to hiding away his emotions under a mask of indifference, and was probably just as nervous as you were. You stood to the side and watched Hawkeye press a button on the panel, but something struck you as odd as you watched him. Hawkeye had just pressed the button for the ground floor, which would bring you up to where you had entered the building, but there were no buttons that went below that. How then, did people manage to take the elevator down to these floors? You thought over this as the elevator moved, flinching in surprise when Hawkeye spoke up.

"Get ready." he ordered. "I have a feeling this floor isn't gonna be empty."

You nodded and positioned yourself at the side of the doors, waiting for them to open. Hawkeye did the same on the other side. After a few moments, the doors slowly slid open, but Hawkeye did not move. You looked over to him and were surprised to see him staring at you. He didn't move, and you assumed that he was waiting for some kind of signal, so you nodded sharply. Hawkeye did the same then headed out of the elevator, keeping low. He ducked behind the wall of a small cubicle and signalled for you to join him. After you had made it out, you leaned against the wall, forgetting about the condition of your shoulder. You bit your knuckles fiercely to contain your cries, and moved off of the wall, breathing heavily. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at you but you shook your head in dismissal of it. Your shoulder would just have to wait until the rest of your body was in the clear.

Hawkeye slowly raised himself until his eye level was above the wall, and scanned the room for a few seconds before ducking back down. He held up three fingers, informing you that there were three of the intruders in the room. You nodded in comprehension. Hawkeye the pointed to you at behind you, ordering you to take the left path while he took the right. At first, you couldn't understand why he wanted you to split up, but considering the size of the aisles, it made sense. If you had to turn around suddenly you would get all tangled in each other. You nodded again and turned, keeping yourself in a low crouch as you made your way towards the door to the reception. You could hear the heavy footsteps of the intruders as they moved around the room, but none of them crossed your path as you inched your way to freedom. You were mere steps from the doorway, unable to see anyone in the next room, when a voice called out.

"Put your hands up, and don't move."

You winced and swivelled your head to face your captor, but upon turning, you realized that there was no one standing behind you. You frowned in confusion but your face dropped as you realized you weren't the only one escaping here. Obviously, Hawkeye had been found. You froze in thought, completely unsure on what to do. Your instincts told you to run, to turn and sprint out the door while they were distracted, but the more moral part of your brain insisted that you found a way to help him. But why should you? He had been nothing but cold and heartless towards you since you had met. On the other hand, it was very unlikely that you would have a chance like this to escape had he not helped. Your instincts pulled your body towards your escape, moving your feet one by one, but you forced yourself to turn around. It just wouldn't be right to leave him behind, no matter how he treated you. On the more selfish side, it probably wouldn't fare too well with the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. if they found out you had the chance to help him but didn't even try.

You moved back through the aisles, working your way towards the path Hawkeye had taken. Even as you moved, regret was building inside of you, but you forced it away, insisting to yourself that you were doing the right thing. You came to an aisle that led directly to the four men. Hawkeye had his back to one of the room's walls, with his hands raised and three guns trained on him. You were fairly certain that there wouldn't be any real weapons laying around this part of the building, and you were sure you didn't have the time to look, so it was time for a plan B. You moved from around the corner and began making your way towards the group. Due to the intruders pointing focusing on Hawkeye, no one but him was able to see you as you made your way up. Though his eyes did not flicker in the slightest in notice of you, you trusted that he knew what you were planning.

You thought about shouldering the closest man to you with your good side, but that would push him straight onto Hawkeye, and that would likely not play out well for either of you. Instead, you remained crouched and wound up your leg, aiming to take him off his feet. Praying that you would pull it off, you released your leg and let it smash into the man's calves. The force caused you to fall on your backside, but Hawkeye took immediate use of his distraction and set to work on the intruder to his left, struggling with him for control of the gun. The man to his right regained his focus and raised his gun, but before he could fire, you managed to scramble to your feet and tackle him against the wall. You had used your good shoulder, but this still didn't stop the force reverberating through your body and sending shockwaves to your left shoulder, which again stung with pain. You hoped that the force would have knocked him out, but the man began struggling to get back up soon after he hit the ground. Not wanting to take any chances, you swung a fist for his head, trying again for a knock out. The man managed to block you, however, and hit you with one of his own in return. Your head snapped to the side and you grunted in pain, trying to figure out how you could win this fight without using your left arm. You spied his gun a little ways away from the both of you, and made a move for it, but he obviously had the same idea as he moved towards it also. You almost had it in your grasp when he roughly pushed you to the side by your injured shoulder. You gasped in pain and blinked as your eyes went out of focus momentarily. This pain was becoming far too much to handle in you situation. As you tried to recover yourself, the gun was raised towards you, and you froze. This was it. There was no getting out of this. Hawkeye was still struggling with his own assailant, and with the gun this close to you, you had no chance of making a move. Your breath amplified until all you could hear was it roaring in your ears like a waterfall. You thought you felt your eyes begin to water, but with your face still numb from the punch you received, it was difficult to tell. The man holding the gun towards you smirked, and you closed your eyes, waiting for your demise.

"That will be enough." called a familiar voice.

Your eyes snapped open upon hearing this, and you noticed that your attacker had lowered his gun, and was looking towards someone behind you. Before turning, you stole a glance at Hawkeye and his own assailant, who had both done the same. You turned to see Director Fury standing in the doorway of the reception, his hands behind his back, and the slightest of smirks on his face as you looked over at you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, just what is going on here? I suppose you'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out, won't you?


	7. Chapter 7

You could do nothing but stare vacantly as Director Fury slowly made his way to you through the cubicles. Your mind was a wild storm of confusion as you tried to process what was going on. As soon as Fury had spoken, all of the struggling around you had stopped. Although you couldn't take your eyes off of Fury, you were aware that everyone else had ceased their actions and stood to face him too. You could still feel your hands quivering with adrenaline as Fury finally stopped a few feet from you and spoke.

"Agents Flynn, Murphy, Connolly, you may leave now. Thank you for your assistance." he stated.

You slowly turned your head side to side, watching the men as they walked past Fury. What did he mean by agents? Surely they didn't work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. But they must have, or they wouldn't have taken orders from Fury. Then why on earth were they attacking you? Your head was a blur with questions, but you were too stunned to utter a single word. Thankfully, you didn't have to as Fury spoke up again.

"Ms. (Lastname), I'm sure you have many questions for us." he said. "If you'll produce the document that you... borrowed, from our offices, I'm sure we can make things clear for you."

You stared hopelessly at him for a moment, too confused to realize what he was talking about. You could feel the side of your face where you had been hit start to throb, and the adrenaline in your system was slowly starting to wear off. Finally, you remembered the room that you had met Hawkeye in, and you began fishing in your pockets for the sheet of paper you had found. After a few seconds of searching, you pulled the gracelessly crumpled paper from your jacket and opened it out, wincing at the growing pain in your shoulder. You looked up at Fury uncertainly, but his silence implied that he wanted to give you time to read it. You looked back down to the paper and read it again, skimming over the details of your name and address. Past your description lay the words 'TEST RESULT: TO BE DETERMINED.". You could almost feel the colour drain from your face as you connected the dots. This couldn't be right. There was just no way. It couldn't have all been a test. You turned your gaze back to Fury, glaring at waiting for him to answer the questions you had not yet asked. Now you were sure that you could feel your eyes sting, but thankfully they did not spill over. Even in your state, you knew better than to let him think you were weak.

"We apologize for the measures that had to be taken, Ms.(Lastname), but we assure you, did we not think them necessary we would not have gone to such lengths." Fury stated.

Why on earth would all of this be necessary? Did they go through all of this for every new agent? You took a quick glance at Hawkeye, who had moved to your side and was now concentrating on Fury. He seemed somewhat indifferent to the whole situation, but then, he shouldn't be surprised at all. He was obviously in on it all along. Suddenly, some of the weirder events of the day made more sense. Hawkeye's lack of a weapon, the seemingly random unlocked door. It had all been orchestrated from the beginning. Remembering earlier, you looked down to the blood on your clothes and a thought came to your mind, causing your eyes to widen and for you to find your voice again.

"Is Lea okay?" you blurted out. It felt strange to talk when the side of your mouth was throbbing the way it was, and you silently prayed you wouldn't begin spitting whenever you spoke.

Director Fury smirked and chuckled, seemingly amused by your concern, though you didn't find it all that funny that they had pretended to murder someone in front of you.

"Yes, Agent Breen is alive and in top condition. Wouldn't you prefer to know about the results of your test?" he questioned.

"Actually Sir," you began, hoping that your voice sounded braver than you felt. "I'm still trying to understand why you found this necessary in the first place."

You could feel Hawkeye's gaze shoot to you, likely as a warning, but you refused to back down, and kept staring at Fury. You knew that it was somewhat risky to say, and you normally would rather avoid making trouble for yourself, but you were feeling rather offended at the whole thing. Despite Hawkeye's reaction and your expectations, Fury's expression did not falter, and instead he kept a level voice as he answered you.

"Yes, I suppose it's only natural you would have some questions. I promise you that all will be explained in due time. For now, all you need to now is that you passed, Ms. (Lastname). Well done."

It was nice to know that you had passed, but the fact that he had skirted around your question entirely just annoyed you.

"Well..thank you Sir, but.." you began.

A pulse of pain and dizziness shooting through your head cut your sentence short, and you hissed while raising your hand to your head. The pain in your shoulder increased tenfold at the same time, and you couldn't hold back the strained look on your face. When the pain in your head had subsided, you looked back to Fury. He still hadn't changed his expression, and as you stared at him, you noticed a pressure on your back. You turned your head to the side and found Hawkeye looking at you with the slightest hint of concern on his face. His hand was at your back to support you, and you nodded quickly at him to show that you were alright. It was strange to see him showing any sort of worry for you, but you chalked it up to him not wanting to look bad in front of Fury. If something happened to you it would probably be on his shoulders. You expected Fury to comment on your actions, but he remained seemingly indifferent, so you decided to finish with what you had tried to say beforehand.

"But I don't really understand how I passed. Or what I passed, for that matter." you finished, feeling slightly foolish.

"As I have said, all will be explained in time." repeated Fury. "But first, it would appear that you need medical attention."

You barely managed not to groan in frustration in front of him. Why couldn't he just tell you now? It was true that you needed some help with your shoulder, and you appreciated that he had acknowledged it, but you still just wanted your answers now. Still, you were in no position to demand anything from anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. at this point, most definitely not him. You nodded in defeat and sighed quietly. Despite wanting to know what was going on, you supposed you could wait until after you were patched up.

"Yes sir." you added, just for good measure.

"Very good." Fury responded. "Agent Barton, please escort Agent (Lastname) to Dr. Brennan for a check up."

Though you did not take your eyes from Fury for a few moments, you saw Hawkeye nod in the corner of your eye. He tapped your arm and beckoned for you to follow when you turned your head to him. Taking another glance at Fury to make sure he had nothing else to say, you began following Hawkeye, grateful for the chance to have yourself looked over.

"Agent (Lastname)." Fury called, causing you to turn your head.

Fury extended his arm with an open hand.

"The document, if you please."

You looked down to the document and felt slightly embarrassed. With the questions in your head and the pain shooting through you, you had forgotten that you were even holding it. You stepped back over to Fury and handed the paper to him, which he wordlessly accepted and folded. With one final glance at him, you turned again and caught up with a not stopping Hawkeye. He did not speak as he led you back to the elevator, and you allowed yourself to think back over all of the information you had just received. All of the events that you had experienced had all been part of a test. Judging by Fury's switch from 'Ms.' to 'Agent', it had been to determine if you were worthy of being a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Although you were pleased to know that you had earned your way in, it was irritating to think that you had been played for such a purpose. You had been injured and thought you weren't going to make it out on more than on occasion. Then again, if you were going to be a real agent, it was probably that you would have to deal with these things frequently.

Hawkeye entered the elevator and waited for you to join him. You stepped beside him and looked out of the elevator to Fury again. Something about him was so peculiar. He always seemed so professional and serious, yet he didn't intimidate you in any way. You had only seen him smirk a single time, though he didn't come across as a cruel or angry person. As you watched he turned back around and made his way out to the front of the building, off to some unknown task. Your head pulsed again and your vision dimmed slightly, and you shot an arm to the wall of the elevator to make sure you didn't keel over. It would only be a few minutes until you were getting some medical attention. No need to give in now.

"Everything okay back there?" Hawkeye called over his shoulder as he made use of the elevator panel.

He was standing unusually close to the panel, and though he was clearly trying to hide something, you could see the buttons he pressed: 744353. You frowned in confusion as you watched him enter the numbers. Either he wanted to spend a long time waiting to get to the third floor, or it was some type of code. Hawkeye turned to face you with an eyebrow raised when you didn't respond, and you quickly straightened yourself and tried to act like you weren't spying over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah... I-I'm fine." you assured, nodding your head quickly as you spoke. It wasn't exactly true, but you couldn't let him think you were weak, not when it was just appearing that he was warming up to you.

"Right.." Hawkeye said, making it easy by his tone of voice to tell that he didn't believe you.

"Well, we'll be down to Dr. Brennan in a second, so just hang on until then."

With the word down, you came to realize Hawkeye's choice of buttons. On the way up you had wondered how people used the elevator to get to the lower levels; It must have been an access code of sorts. You wondered if you would need to remember it. Probably not, since it wasn't exactly intended to be shown to you in the first place. You thought about asking Hawkeye about it in a way that would make it sound like you didn't know, but in the end you decided against it. Now that he had no boss to impress around, he would probably start acting cold towards you again, and the last thing you needed was him wearing into you with the pain you were already experiencing. You both fell silent again, and you waited for Hawkeye to show you the way. The majority of the pain in your head had subsided after a few moments, but the pain in your shoulder refused to disappear. You resisted the urge to rub it in test, knowing it would only bring you more pain. You sighed and tapped your foot lightly to try distract yourself from the pain.

Finally, the elevator doors pulled open, leaving you back in the same hallway that Hawkeye had led you down earlier. You followed him as he stepped out and began taking a path through the halls.

"So.. are you sure you're alright?" Hawkeye asked again, not turning to look at you as he kept leading the way.

You stared at the back of his head and raised an eyebrow. Was he actually being compassionate, or was there someone around he needed to impress? You took a quick glance over your shoulder, but you could detect no other presences nearby. Maybe he had some kind of wire on to monitor your behaviour. You caught yourself and marvelled at your paranoia. It was entirely likely that he was just being kind. Even though he had been less than accommodating to you in the past, you did realize it was a result of his lack of trust for you. It wasn't really fair to class him as an entirely bad person based on that.

"Yeah, really, I'm okay. Thank you." you insisted.

Hawkeye did not verbally respond, instead giving a silent nod of his head. Only when you saw the back of his head nod did you realize that you were lagging behind him. Feeling more comfortable with him after his worrying, you quickened your pace and fell into stride beside him. You turned another corner and Hawkeye flicked his head down the hall, though you couldn't tell which one he was motioning to.

"That's it there." he added.

You opened your mouth to voice your acknowledgement, but a searing pain in your head cut you short and caused your vision to black out. You stumbled against the wall and pressed your hands against it to try stabilize yourself. The pain faded as suddenly as it came, but your body's strength did not return.

"(Firstname)?!" Hawkeye asked, worry clear in his voice.

You tried to respond, but you just didn't have the energy to speak. A sudden pain in your knees made you realize that you had fallen to the ground, and you kept trying to hold yourself up, but your arms gave out and you collapsed to the floor, your eyes slowly sliding shut until you lost consciousness.

\---

You awoke to heavy darkness, cracking your tired eyes open and peering around the room where you lay. Your body pleaded with you to return to sleep, but you wanted to know where you were, so you looked around much as you were able. Through the darkness, you could see the outlines of various objects, and after a few moments of trying to piece together the room in your head, you realized that you were in your own room at Stark Tower. It was surprising to say the least, but you simply didn't have the energy to make a big fuss out of it. Making a half conscious decision to worry about it when you were more awake, you let your eyes slide shut again and fell back to sleep.

\--

You awoke again, being full of much more energy than they had been the last time you woke up. It wasn't as dark now as it had appeared to be the first time, and you took the opportunity to have a look around the room. You noticed that the boxes containing your things had been neatly stacked against the opposite wall, and the clothes you had thrown around earlier were now neatly folded beside the boxes. Whoever had done this had obviously meant well, and although you were grateful you weren't sure you were entirely comfortable having someone sneak around your room while you slept. You turned your eyes to look to the door and couldn't contain a yelp when you found Steve standing next to your bed, holding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the lameish way to end the chapter, but I really wanted to finish it tonight, and I feel like it's long enough to satisfy for a little while.
> 
> I hope you aren't getting annoyed by the passing out thing again, but having the reader faint is just so handy sometimes, and I just really like using it for some reason! What? I'm not lazy, how dare you.
> 
> Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this chapter took so long!

Your body jumped with fright, and you hissed at the pain in your shoulder, noticing how incredibly stiff it felt. You looked down to it and blinked in surprise when you found a type of brace on it. Had they still treated you after you went unconscious? You weren't sure whether to be grateful or uncomfortable with that. Either way, there were other, more immediate matters to deal with.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." Steve apologized, staring at you uncertainly.

You looked at him, unsure what to say next. He stood in a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants, with worn looking sneakers on his feet. It looked somewhat unprofessional for someone of his status, but you supposed at the end of the day he was just a regular person too. Going around in his costume all the time probably wouldn't go very well. You opened your mouth to answer, but something he was holding in his hands caught your eye first. He was holding a moderately sized tray with a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. Judging by their untouched appearance, and his presence in your room, it probably wasn't meant for himself. Looking at the food made you realize how hungry you were, but you didn't want to mention it, just in case it wasn't actually for you. How awkward would it be if you took it and found out it was meant for someone else?

Still, you were unsure exactly what to say. Different emotions battled each other inside if you to be the one who would be represented the most, and it left your tongue tied up in knots. Should you be upset that he came into your room while you were asleep? You didn't even know how long he had been there for. Should you be kind about it? After all, he was probably the one who had fixed up your room while you were out. He was known for his kind personality. As you battled with yourself, Steve became noticeably uncomfortable with your prolonged, vacant staring.

"Are you... are you alright, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you with concern in his eyes. The amount of care he was showing towards a stranger was somewhat unsettling, especially when placed in comparison with Hawkeye, whom you had just spent so much time with.

You managed to get a hold of yourself, and slowly began shaking your head as your mind cleared up.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." you answered, adjusting yourself on your bed so that you back was leaning against the headboard.

"Sorry."

Steve nodded, and kept staring at you for a moment, then looked down to the tray in his hands suddenly, as if he had forgotten he was holding it.

"This is, uh, this is for you." he said quickly, moving towards your bed and carefully laying the tray across your lap. You felt embarrassed having your food handed to you as if you were some kind of royalty, though Steve didn't seem to care all that much so you let it pass.

"Thank you." you said quietly, looking down at the breakfast. You were more of a tea and toast person, but he couldn't have known that, and you were grateful nonetheless for it.

"Here, let me turn on the light for you." he continued, turning and moving to some switches on the wall.

He flicked on the switches, and the room's brightness gradually increased, illuminating every corner and allowing you to see much more clearly. The first thing you did was look back down to your shoulder brace, poking it slightly and feeling it. Hopefully, having one on wouldn't make your daily tasks too different.

"You should rest that for a while." Steve said, suddenly back at your bedside. You looked at him.

"Doctors said you should only need it for a little while." he explained. "You banged it up pretty bad, but they said it would heal quickly. You can take it off when you're showering, but try to keep it to a minimum."

You nodded understandingly and silently marveled at his kindness. You hadn't met a lot of people who would act so caring towards you in your lifetime, bar your own family, though you never expected to with your line of work.

"Thank you." you said, trying to sound as though you genuinely meant it.

Steve nodded and smirked slightly.

"You're welcome, ma'am." he answered.

"You can just call me (firstname)." you stated, smiling at his formality. You wanted to think that it was because you were colleagues, but if you were being honest with yourself, being called 'ma'am' made you feel old.

Steve smiled and you could see something in his eyes, almost like pride.

"Sure thing, (firstname)." he responded, looking you in the eye.

It fell silent after that, and you stared at each other up to the point where it became slightly unsettling. The silence became too much for you, and you reached for the glass of orange juice to distract yourself, but you accidentally moved your legs at the same time, causing your hand to smack off the glass and topple it onto the tray.

"Ah, shit." you muttered, starting to lift the tray so that you could grab a towel. Most of the spillage had been contained to the tray itself, and you slowly lifted it to avoid ruining your bed.

"No, lemme get that for you." Steve insisted, placing a hand gently on your shoulder to still you, and quickly walking towards the bathroom on the other side of the room.

You sat back down and tried to balance the tray evenly on your legs. The juice sloshed this way and that as you tried to find a medium, and eventually you found a sort of balance, locking yourself up to avoid disturbing it.

Steve came back from that bathroom, carrying a roll of toilet paper. He tore off a few squares and carefully began dabbing around the plate, working a little slower than you would have liked. You were more embarrassed than ever having Steve lean over you to clean the tray, feeling like a helpless child making people clean up after you. You looked at the mess over his shoulder, waiting until you could start moving again. His head suddenly turned to you, but the second your eyes connected Steve quickly turned back to the tray and cleared his throat.

He finished dabbing the plate dry and stood back up, taking the mostly empty glass and stuffing the paper inside of it.

"Thank you." you said, much more quietly than you had intended. After saying it so much, you felt it was beginning to lose its sincerity.

"No problem." Steve answered, holding the glass in one hand and looking to the side slightly.

"If that's all you need, then I guess I'll leave you to it." he said quickly, beginning to turn for the door.

"Wait." you said, causing Steve to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. You wanted to know the answer to some questions, and you figured that Steve was probably the best person to ask.

"Can I ask you some questions?"

Steve nodded, agreeing faster than you had expected. He likely understood that you would want some answers.

You felt cruel making him stand while you lay uncomfortably in your bed, and unable to see any other seats around, you scooted over slightly and patted the bed beside you.

"Here, have a seat." you offered.

"You've earned the privilege." you joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

Steve slowly lowered himself onto the bed beside you, and you felt the bed dip slightly. You smiled and looked at him, jokingly raising an eyebrow. Steve seemed to blush slightly at your look, and you held in a laugh, thinking he was embarrassed enough already.

"I'm happy to answer your questions, but don't you want to eat your cereal?" Steve asked, clearly trying to direct your attention elsewhere.

You looked down to the tray, having completely forgotten about the cereal. You lifted the spoon out, and the now mushy food slimed its way off and back into the bowl, entirely murdering your appetite.

"I'm not that hungry.." you answered, placing the spoon back on the tray.

Steve chuckled and looked at you.

"Alright, so what is it you wanted to ask?" he inquired.

You thought about the correct way to ask if he had known about your test. If you said it the wrong way it might sound like you were accusing him of something, and you didn't want to make this more awkward than it already was by offending him, but you wanted to know more about it.

"Did.. did you know about my tests?" you asked, looking him deep in the eyes.

Steve nodded, though he didn't look guilty or ashamed as you had expected.

"Yeah, we all did." he answered. "What about 'em?"

"Why did you do them, do you know?" you wondered. "And why did you wait until I got to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Steve frowned at you, seemingly confused.

"What do you mean? We were testing you since -" Steve answered, but he caught himself. He looked away quickly and clenched his fist, muttering something under his breath.

You couldn't help but narrow your eyes at him. Testing you since when? Just how much of this was real? He had spilled the beans, and you were going to make sure you got every last one of them.

"Testing me since when?" you requested, staring Steve hard in the face.

"I have to go." Steve tried, beginning to stand up from your bed.

You grabbed his arm and tried to hold him still. He was undoubtedly much stronger than you, and could probably pry your arm off with two fingers, but you knew it wasn't in his nature to act so rough to someone in your state, and you shamelessly exploited this.

"Steve, tell me." you demanded, trying to sound tougher than you could have looked with a shoulder brace on you.

Steve stayed on the bed and looked over at you, his expression like one of a guilty puppy. Again, he was blushing somewhat as he looked at your arm, but eventually he looked back up at your face and sighed in defeat.

"We were testing you since you entered the tower.." he explained. "Every minute since you broke in, we recorded it."

When you looked at him in confusion, Steve tried to light the mood slightly.

"Come on, you didn't think getting into Stark Tower would be _that_ easy, did you?" he asked, a nervous smirk on his face.

Rather than answer or smile with him, you found yourself staring blankly as your brain tried to catch up with what he had told you. You had never really broken into Stark Tower, you were just being led. Like a test subject, a little guinea pig. Even though you wanted to, you didn't feel mad or upset, but almost a sense of relief. Even though they had tricked you, it had led to you becoming a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.,  and having a sense of camaraderie with your team, even if you hardly knew them yet. You went through the events of your 'break in' in your head, and it all began to make some sense. The machine in Tony's lab that had been so conveniently left on for you to use, Steve showing up so quickly to help; It all clicked into place. As you thought over it, you remembered the whole fiasco with the helicopter.

"Even the helicopter?" you asked suddenly, focusing on Steve again.

"What?" he asked. Recognition flashed on his face.

"Oh. Yeah, even that."

You couldn't keep the expression of bewilderment from your face. They had seriously dangled and dropped you from a helicopter just for the sake of testing you? Someone high in the ranks there had to have had a screw or two loose.

"I could have died." you said quietly, looking down at the bed instead of Steve. You let go of his arm finally and clasped your hands together, squeezing them as you thought about the fact that you could be dead right now.

"No, of course not." Steve protested. When you didn't look up, Steve gently placed a hand on yours.

"(Firstname), do you think we would have taken that risk if we weren't sure Tony would catch you?" he asked.

Rather than answer, you tried to clear your mind of it and focus on the other things that had happened. If you got too caught up on the whole helicopter thing, you would only put yourself out and make yourself annoyed. With Steve sitting right beside you, your mind came to remember when you had been trying to escape the tower and met him in front of the elevator. You ended up smiling wryly at him, which he noticed and smiled back, suspicious.

"What?" he asked, his smile spreading wider with each moment.

"I'm uh, I'm sorry I threw a gun at your head." you said, unable to contain some quiet laughter. In all honesty, it wasn't something you should laugh at, but the tension in the room left you desperate for anything to make you smile.

Steve laughed out loud, something that made you blush slightly but laugh louder yourself.

"That's okay." Steve said. Only when he squeezed your hand slightly did you realize that he had never let go of it.

You tried to ignore the hand holding and continued with the scenario you had in mind. You didn't want to ruin the mood, but you had to know if you could have genuinely hurt him.

"So, if it was all a test, I guess that gun wasn't real or something?" you asked.

"No, it was real. It just wasn't loaded." he answered, still smirking a bit as he looked at you.

You nodded. That was probably a test of how far you would go to protect yourself. If you had tried to fire it, and it had clicked empty, where would you be now? Perhaps in detainment somewhere.

Steve stood up, and you were too deep in thought to try stop him this time.

"I, uh, I really need to go now." he stated. "Sorry (firstname), but there's someone else who wants to speak with you."

You nodded, satisfied with being told what you had been. Rather than head for the door straight away though, Steve leaned down and took up the tray from your lap.

"I'll take this back to the kitchen for you." he said, earning a nod and a smile from you.

"Thanks, Steve." you said.

Steve looked at you as if he wanted to say something else, but decided against it, turning and heading for the door. As he walked out, you overheard him apologize to whoever else was waiting outside the door before he walked off, tray in hand. You peered curiously at the door, curious as to who was behind it, and your question was answered when Hawkeye filled the doorway, looking at you in a way you had never seen before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> I'm aware that your shoulder wound realistically wouldn't heal so quickly, but come on, do YOU wanna spend 7-8 chapters being semi - helpless with a brace on your arm? No? Then shush.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, enjoy!

You sat awkwardly as Hawkeye took stance in the doorway, staring at you. You tried not to stare back, instead looking down at the creases Steve had left in the bed when he sat down. There was something in his gaze that told you he was preparing himself for a speech, and you feared for the worst. He was probably getting ready to explain to you how your acceptance to the team didn't mean anything to him, and how he knew your 'true nature' and would not be fooled. You tried to prepare some counter arguments in your head for when he finally started talking. Another few moments of intense silence passed and you were beginning to think about speaking up first. Perhaps he was trying to intimidate you by creating this thick atmosphere in the room before he started talking. You shook your head at his childish behaviour and held your tongue, becoming determined not to show him that he was making it awkward for you.

Almost as soon as you had decided this, Hawkeye stepped into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. He stood with his arms folded, and now that he was in the light of your room, you could see he had ditched his agent's uniform for a plain black t-shirt and some jeans. The new clothing made him look decidedly less menacing, but you didn't allow it to break you, keeping your words to yourself and face of indifference. Hawkeye stepped near your bed and stopped, looking down at the floor and clearing his throat. You took a glance from the corner of your eye, and barely managed not to double take. Hawkeye was looking down at the ground, and his expression was nothing close to angered or tough; It looked confused, and pensive. You looked back down to the bed and waited for him to start talking, now curious as to what he had to say.

Hawkeye sighed and cleared his throat again, kicking the floor slightly.

"Look, (firstname)." he started. You could feel him look up at you as he talked, but you didn't want to look up just yet. You wanted to be sure this wasn't some facade he was putting on to get through you.

Hawkeye raised his right hand to scratch the back of his head awkwardly.

"About before.. I'm sorry." he said.

This caused you to look up, looking at him in the eyes, trying to determine how genuine what he had said was.

"I know I was a bit aggressive, but it's just because.." he continued, stopping to shake his head lightly and take a breath. He seemed to have trouble apologizing.

"I, ah.. I just have some trouble trusting new people."

You waited for him to finish with "Especially wanted criminals", but he did not continue. Looking into his eyes, it was clear that he was having some difficulty speaking with you. He was frowning as if deep in thought, and he had returned to looking at the floor, likely unable to look into your eyes. His attitude made you feel somewhat at fault, and you could see in him that he was genuinely trying to apologize, so you tried to lighten the mood a little.

"Am I really receiving an apology from Hawkeye, the stone cold killer agent?" you joked, smiling at him in fake incredulity.

Hawkeye looked up at you again, momentarily looking hurt, but when he saw your smiling face, his expression lightened and broke into a smile himself. He squared up his shoulders and put on a serious face in a faux macho attitude.

"Yeah, and don't get used to it." he answered roughly, glaring at you.

You smiled wider and laughed lightly at his joking around. Although it amused you, it felt so peculiar to be having this interaction with the man who drugged you twice. Before, you had been sure that he was someone you wanted to avoid. He had seemed so needlessly cruel and apathetic, but now you weren't as sure any more. Perhaps you needed to re-evaluate your thoughts about him. You tried to turn a clean slate in your mind, happy to use your chance to start a friendlier relationship with your co-worker.

"So, uh.." you trailed off, unsure how to continue. It suddenly hit you how little you knew about making new friends. After a brief moment of panic, you thought about what he had said himself about trusting new people.

"What made you change your mind?" you asked, clutching some of the sheets in your hand and fumbling with them.

"About what? You?" Hawkeye asked, letting his shoulders relax again and returning to his regular face expression.

You nodded silently, and frowned in confusion when Hawkeye looked away, presumably thinking.

"Well, uh.." he began, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his head again.

You waited patiently for him to continue, and decided to look away at nothing, just to take the pressure off of him. A sudden weight on the bed almost made you fall to your side, and you looked  back over to Hawkeye, who had now sat himself where Steve had sat moments ago. It was a bit sudden and forward for the relationship between the two of you, but you supposed that it was part of his personality and tried to accept it. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees and facing away from you, taking a breath before speaking again. Now that he was so close to you, you noticed the faintest scent of cologne in the room.

"You know, during the test?" he asked. Even though he still faced away from you, he seemed to know when you nodded your head, and continued.

"Well, when you came back for me at the end.. I just didn't expect that, you know?"

You weren't entirely sure whether to take that as a compliment as an insult, and you tried to get him to expand on it.

"Why is that?" you wondered, idly lifting a hand to rub your shoulder brace.

Hawkeye finally turned to you, his eyes wide as though you had just stabbed him.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean it like that!" he said quickly, shaking his head quickly.

You hadn't meant it aggressively, but now that he was hooked you decided to play it out, glaring at him and raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Hawkeye shifted his body so that one knee rested on the bed. Now his entire upper body was facing you, and he stared desperately into your eyes, trying to make you forgive him.

"Seriously (firstname), that's not what I meant! I just meant that.. well.." his voice fell quieter and he looked down at the bed awkwardly.

"Well, you're known for being a runner, and you usually work by yourself so.. I didn't really think you would come back for me." he finished.

You smiled wryly. To be fair, that was true. You hadn't really thought about it like that.

"It's alright, Hawkeye." you assured. "I understand."

Hawkeye breathed a sigh of relief, remaining facing you, though he looked down at the sheets. A silence began to form, and you waited to see if Hawkeye had anything more to say. For a few moments, you believed that he was thinking again about what to say next, but it suddenly dawned on you that he might not believe that you had forgiven him. A sense of guilt filled you for teasing him how you had, though surely he wouldn't get caught up on something so small? You looked at him. He didn't seem particularly upset, but you wanted to be sure that he knew you were only kidding.

"It's Clint." he said suddenly, still looking down at the sheets. "Barton."

You blinked at him, caught off guard. That was all he wanted to say? You thought he had been a little dramatic about it, but you remembered that Natasha and Clint himself had told you that he was cautious around new people. Giving away his name was probably a bigger deal for him than most people. You weren't sure if you should thank him or not. In the end, you decided against it. It sounded weird, and it might come across as patronizing to him.

"Alright, Clint." you said, giving your best shot at a reassuring smile.

Clint looked up at you, smiling, and you noticed something new in his eye. You couldn't exactly put your finger on it, but it seemed like a type of happiness. A few moments later, his gaze shifted to your shoulder, and he nodded his head at it.

"How you holdin' up?" he asked.

You looked down to your shoulder, focusing your attention on it. It didn't actually hurt very much at all anymore, it was more a numbness.

"I'm fine." you answered. "Thanks."

"Are - are you sure?" Clint asked. " 'Cause, if you want, I can massage it for you."

You let out a short laugh, but stopped upon seeing Clint's expression. He didn't have the slightest look of jest on his face. You cleared your throat, slightly embarrassed, and began to politely refuse, but something in his eyes stopped you again. There was a certain pleading in his dark green eyes, and it left you feeling pressured to agree. It was almost like he was desperately begging you with nothing more than his gaze.

"Well, I suppose a little rub wouldn't hurt.." you said uncertainly. "But are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Clint stood up and walked around your bed. You moved over to where he had been sitting, and he kneeled on the bed behind you, carefully undoing your brace.

"Of course I know what I'm doing. Didn't you know I used to be a masseur?" he asked.

"Really?" you asked hopefully. That was quite a job change.

"No." he answered flatly.

You turned your head to glare at him, and barely managed to get a glimpse of his smirking face before he grabbed your head and turned you to face forward again.

"Relax, we see these injuries all the time. Now stay still." he ordered.

You obeyed, staring at the wall an letting Clint start to rub your shoulder slowly. At first, it stung, but the pain gradually decreased and became the satisfying release of tension from your muscles. You couldn't contain a low moan, your entire body relaxing with your shoulder.

"Oh my god Clint..." you breathed. You felt his hands tense slightly at this, but you assumed he was just surprised that you managed to talk through your moaning.

"That feels so good.."

To your dismay, Clint stopped the massage.

"Well, that's enough for now." he said quickly, picking up your brace. "Come on, help me put this on you."

You pouted, still facing the wall, and lifted your arm to let him string it around you. Again, you felt slightly embarrassed to have it all done for you when you were capable of doing it yourself, but you didn't protest. Once the brace was back on, you waited for Clint to come back around to the front, but he remained kneeling behind you for a few moments. You turned your head to question him, and found him looking down at you, his jaw locked to one side slightly as if he was thinking heavily in something. It was a little off-putting until he seemed to snap out of it and backed off, hopping off your bed and moving back around to the side you were on. Although you hadn't moved, he sat himself down where he had been the first time, inches away from you. He seemed to be leaping from 'awkward stranger' to 'super comfortable friend' personalities at a mile a minute.

"Anything else you need?" he asked.

You looked to the floor and thought on it. You had asked Steve most of the questions you had wanted answered. There wasn't anything else you truly needed right now, and you didn't want to act like some kind of queen asking him to go fetch things for you. You ran through your conversation with Steve in your mind, making sure that you had asked him everything you wanted to know, but one detail you hadn't thought of yet cropped up in your mind.

"If me being in the Tower was a test, then what about Karma?" you asked, looking up to Clint.

Clint looked at you blankly for a moment, then nodded his head in understanding.

"So Steve told you about that, huh?"

"Well, yeah." you answered. "Is it supposed to be a secret or something?"

Clint shook his head.

"No, no. It's just... never mind." he said. He then sighed.

"Nah, Karma doesn't exist. Never did. It was all just a plan to lure you in here." he explained.

You nodded. It was still a little hard to believe, but they didn't have a lot of reason to lie to you about it.

"What about the guys in the helicopter? Just Agents?" you wondered.

Clint nodded and you fell silent, nothing else to ask.

"Is that all?" Clint asked again.

"Yeah, I don't need anything else. Thanks, Clint." you answered, smiling as you said the last part.

Clint stood up and turned to you.

"See you later then, newbie." he teased, ruffling your hair.

Before you could respond he turned and headed for the door, so you resorted to glaring at the back of his head.

Hopefully, this was just the beginning of an easier life with the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter! Don't worry, you won't be stuck in your room again for the next one!


	10. Chapter 10

You sighed to yourself as your stomach growled for the fifth time.  You hadn't installed a clock in your room yet, but you guessed it had been about two hours since you had spoken with Steve and Clint. Thinking back, you were starting to slightly regret not eating the food Steve had brought you, even if it had had the consistency of wet cement by the time you checked it. You looked around your room vacantly, as if it would turn out there was another breakfast just lying in wait for you somewhere. When your search turned out to be fruitless, you sighed again and decided to just stop being lazy and go get some breakfast yourself. Steve had told you to rest your shoulder, but you supposed you could make your way to the kitchen without moving it too much.

You threw the covers from you and awkwardly shifted yourself off of the bed with one arm. You kept a close eye on your brace the entire time, determined not to whack it off of anything and waste all of the healing it had done so far. once your legs were safely to the floor, you looked down at your body. You had most of the clothes you had had on yesterday, except your jacket and your shoes. You mentally thanked the people who had fixed you up for not changing you while you were under. Standing up from the bed, you stretched your back and legs around, groaning with pleasure as they warmed up. As you looked around the room again, you finally noticed locks of your hair invading your eye space. You clicked your tongue and decided to just throw it up in a ponytail and get it out of the way. You brushed the locks to the side as you headed for the boxes against the wall, recognizing one of the top ones as the one that had been filled with random bits and pieces from your home. Hopefully, there would be a few hair ties you could use.

You moved over to the box and opened it with some trouble, as the flaps kept closing themselves and you only had one hand to use. Eventually, as you pulled it around enough, one of the flaps moved enough to stay where it was, and you digged through the contents for anything to tie your hair with. Finally your search provided you with an old tie. It was a bit frilly for your taste, but it would have to do. You scooped your hair back and stretched out the tie, but stopped as you realized you didn't exactly know how to tie your hair with one hand. You fumbled with your free hand repeatedly, pulling your hair this way and that, but after many fruitless tries you  gave up, growling in frustration and hurling the hair tie across the room in anguish. Your hair would just have to remain the way it was for now. You moved to your dresser and took off a hairbrush you had unpacked the last day, running it through your hair meticulously. It didn't really save the fact that you needed a good shower, but it would do for going to the kitchen and back.

You turned and headed for the door, looking at your bed as you walked past. You decided it could wait a while to be made and left the room, stepping out into the hallway. It was entirely empty, and the silence was only broken by the sounds of chatter that seemed to emanate from the living room. You made your way down slowly, not wanting to cause discomfort with your presence, but upon turning the corner you found that the sounds came from the T.V, and there was no other soul in sight in the room.  Shrugging to yourself, you turned and made your way to the elevator, pressing the button. You turned to your head to look up both sides of the hallway, but with no figures in sight, you resorted to just staring at the doors and waiting for them to open. You lifted your hand to vacantly stare at your fingernails as you waited, and eventually the doors pulled open. Waiting inside was Tony Stark, whom you acknowledged to have not spoken with since you tried to 'steal' his blueprints. He smiled at you as the door opened, showing a nice set of teeth. As you stepped somewhat embarrassed into the elevator, you noticed that he was dressed in an appealing black suit and looked quite well done up. Before you could think to mention it though, he spoke.

"Hey, it's everyone's favourite little comatose." he said, still smiling at you.

You blinked slightly at him, take aback by what he had said. It was awfully sudden and unexpected. Not to mention you didn't quite understand what he meant by it.

"You headed somewhere or are you just getting ready to pass out again?" he asked, hovering his finger up and down the elevator's panel.

You blushed slightly, now aware of what he had meant by 'comatose'.

"Kitchen." you whispered, speaking much quieter than you had meant to.

Tony nodded, but stood still, not pressing any buttons. The doors stayed open, and you waited patiently for him to act. After a few moments, you took a glance at Tony, but he was just staring straight out of the doors with the smallest of smirks on his face. Finally, you decided to speak up without trying to sound rude or pushy. You drew a breath to speak but Tony immediately cut you off.

"Jarvis, take us to the kitchen." he commanded suddenly, though it didn't seem directed anywhere in particular. You were beginning to worry for his mental stability when another voice rang out from seemingly all around you, causing you to jump slightly.

"Right away, Sir." the voice stated.

The elevator doors closed soon after, and only after a moment of silent wondering did you realize what was going on. 'Karma' had informed you that Tony had a type of artificial intelligence in his tower. She hadn't given you a name but now it was obvious that it was this 'Jarvis'. You looked to Tony and found him already looking at you, winking when you caught his eye. He was causing you to feel slightly more awkward with each action he took, but you knew enough about him to know it was in his nature to annoy people.

You kicked your toes into the floor as you waited for the elevator to come to a stop. Perhaps it was because of his proximity, or maybe just because of his status, but Tony seemed to have an aura about him that made you feel like looking at him was going to turn out badly, so you kept your eyes on the doors.

"So, you rob any banks lately?" he asked nonchalantly, folding his arms.

You turned your head to him and smiled in bemusement. It seemed he didn't understand your occupation before joining S.H.I.E.L.D.

"I don't rob banks." you said, shaking your head slightly.

Tony waved a hand dismissively in the air.

"Details, details." he scoffed.

Before either of you could continue the doors opened to reveal the kitchen and you quickly stepped out. You turned your head to bid goodbye to Tony and just barely managed to refrain from jumping when you found him right beside you. Apparently he was headed for the kitchen too, but you weren't sure whether to be glad for the company or nervous. Trying to dismiss it in your mind, you moved on and began looking through the cupboards for anything to eat, ignoring the three you had searched before for coffee mugs. Fortunately, the first one you opened contained four different boxes of cereal, and you pulled down one of them, grabbing a bowl from the shelf above it.

"Oh, that's mine." Tony said suddenly from behind you. You turned to look, finding him leaning against the kitchen island, a serious look on his face with his eyebrows raised.

You nodded silently, a little bewildered that a fully grown man would claim ownership of a box of cereal, but you didn't want to cause an upset so you put it back and took the next one.

"That's mine too." Tony chided.

Still facing the cereal box, you bit back a response and took the next one.

"Still mine."

By now you couldn't help but turn around. You tried not to glare but you could feel your eyes boring into him.

"Well is there a cereal I _can_ have?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice even.

Tony frowned in confusion as he spoke.

"You can have any of them. I said they were mine, didn't say you couldn't have them." he said indifferently.

You stared at him blankly, your mind struggling to cope with his ridiculous behaviour. As you stared, you could feel a new presence enter the room.

"Tony, stop tormenting (Firstname)." Natasha scolded, walking in.

Tony raised his hands in a surrender position and backed off, walking around the island and heading for the elevator.

Natasha watched him move to the elevator, then turned back to you, rolling her eyes playfully. Despite your former mood, you couldn't help but smile back. It was so strange to be so chummy with someone who you knew was a deadly, and successful, assassin.

"I'm sorry about him." she said, still smiling one sidedly. "He acts like an ass but he means well."

"It's fine." you responded, moving to grab one of the cereals again.

"Oh, hey." Natasha began. "If you can wait a little, Clint. Steve and I are going to this nice little café just a little ways from the Tower. It has some really good food."

You paused for a moment, thinking. Sitting around a table with a group of people you didn't know was going to be difficult, but you supposed you would have to get to know them sooner or later, and why not now? You nodded, glancing wistfully at the cereal boxes as you replaced your bowl.

"That sounds great." you stated, closing over the press and smiling at her.

Natasha smiled again, showing a set of perfect, white teeth.

"Great." she responded. "We're leaving in a half hour. Meet us downstairs and we'll go over together."

You nodded and watched Natasha give a little wave as she walked off to do other things. Your stomach growled again and you looked down to it, sighing frustratedly. Half an hour was barely enough time to get ready, but it would just have to do. You jogged over to the elevator and pressed the button, growing impatient and spamming it while you waited. You sighed as you waited, believing this to be the longest it has ever taken. Finally it arrived and you stepped in quickly, grateful that there was no one in it this time. You impatiently mashed the button for your floor a few times until the doors closed, and practically glued yourself to them waiting to get out. Once they opened you ran out and down to your room, noticing a confused looking Steve watching you as you went past. You ran into your room and ripped through a few boxes, pulling out a fresh pair of clothes that you had disregarded during your search for the S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting.

You tossed the clothes onto the bed, and fished through more boxes with some difficulty due to your sling, eventually finding your towels and sighing in relief. You ran over to the bathroom and threw the towels on the floor before turning and closing the door, groaning as you realized the task ahead of you of cleaning yourself with a damaged shoulder. You carefully unclipped the brace and threw it to the side, stepping into the shower.

It was more than difficult, but after a while, you managed to get yourself clean and dried off with only minor pain in your shoulder, trying to keep it still the entire time. Unable to wrap your hair up in a towel with one hand, you dried it haphazardly with a towel and let it hang loose around your shoulders. You threw a towel around your upper body and stepped out for your clothes, freezing entirely when you found Clint standing there, wide-eyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! I'm sorry about this chapter. Barely anything happened in it, it took way too long to come out for what it was, and the ending was all rushed, but I really wanted to get it out today.  
> By the way, the shower was so rushed because I just looked it up and found that you should really have a second brace for showering, and you aren't supposed to shower until after a week of having one, and I just didn't know how to write that out so I left it like this. Sorry :c.
> 
> Until next time.


	11. Chapter 11

You shrieked and instinctively raised a hand to cover your breasts, panic causing you to forget that you already had them covered. Clint muttered a curse to himself and quickly clamped his left hand over his eyes, raising his right one in a surrender position.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you cried. You kept telling yourself to back into the bathroom, but the panic and surprise in you forced you to hold your position.

As you stood there, you eyed him up and down suspiciously. What excuse would he come up with to explain his intrusion? You hoped you hadn't been placed in a team with some pervert who liked to spy on his fellow colleagues.

"I was just- ah, Jesus..." Clint tried, obvious panic of his own lacing his words.

He took a breath, seemingly calming himself, and continued.

"I just came to tell you that we're going to a café later and-"

"I know." you interrupted. You didn't know why, but you were also feeling calmer by the second, despite the situation.

"Oh." Clint responded flatly.

He removed his hand from his eyes, but before you could scold him, you noticed that he had glued his eyes to the floor and raised his hand to the back of his head, scratching it awkwardly. You could see that he was making some sort of effort not to look so you decided to just leave him be. Finally, your body began obeying your mind again and you moved forward to grab your clothes from the bed quickly, making sure to keep facing Clint the entire time. You weren't so sure that the towel you had on extended its reach to your entire back body. As you headed back to the bathroom an began closing the door behind you, you noticed that Clint wasn't moving, instead fixating himself to the spot, with his eyes kept on the ground and his hand against the back of his head. You assumed that he was waiting for you to finish, and although there were much better places to wait, you decided against mentioning it, lest you make the situation even more awkward by talking to him while half naked.

After closing the door behind you, you set to work on puling on your underwear and trousers with some difficulty. It was no easy task to pull them on with only one hand, while simultaneously trying to keep your injured shoulder completely still. Many huffs, grunts, and heaves later, you finally managed to slide them to a respectable height and buttoned them closed, sighing exasperatedly.

"Uh, (firstname), you alright in there?" Clint's voice called from the door.

You jumped and looked to the door in surprise. You had been in the bathroom for long enough that you thought he would have left by now, but apparently it was not the case. You weren't sure whether to be upset or grateful for his sudden intrusion. Hearing no answer, Clint continued.

"It's just, uh.. you sound like you're fighting someone in there."

You blushed, embarrassed. You hadn't even thought of what your strenuous cries sounded like to Clint outside the door. You shook your head to yourself and finally spoke up, before Clint decided to break down the door to make sure you were alright.

"Yeah, I'm - I'm fine, Clint." you breathed, nodding even though he couldn't see you.

"Oh, alright. Good." Clint answered, clearing his throat after.

You sighed and looked at your t-shirt, laying in a crumpled heap on the floor. You thought you could manage the bra, but pulling on a t-shirt over your shoulder was a whole new territory. You took a breath to prepare yourself, but a sudden thought came to you, and you looked to the door, rolling your eyes. You really didn't want to damage your shoulder by moving it anymore than was absolutely necessary, so at the cost of some of your dignity, you decided to ask for some help.

"Clint?" you called to the door, looking over to it.

There was no response for a few seconds, just the sound of approaching footsteps, but eventually Clint replied from behind the wood.

"Yeah?"

"Could you-" you started, stopping to sigh and try to phrase it in a way that didn't sound pathetic.

"Could you help me get dressed?" you finished quickly, shimmying your bra around your shoulder and sliding it on the other arm, just barely managing to do the hooks.

Behind the door was silent again for a moment, and you feared Clint had just left, but his response came just as you had given up.

"Get - get dressed?" he repeated, voice laden with concern and suspicion.

"Just the top!" you blurted quickly, only now realizing how it must have sounded the first time. You may have been somewhat disabled, but the mere thought of asking someone to help you put on your underwear was enough to induce self loathing.

"Are you sure?" he called from behind the door.

"Because, y'know, I might not be able to control myself..." he teased.

You glared at the door and did your best to suppress a smile. You would prefer that he were serious about this, but a little joke felt like just what you needed to cheer up a little.

"Clint, I really need you to be serious right now." you said, failing in stopping yourself laughing a little as you spoke.

"Will you just help me?"

"Alright.." Clint drawled, pressing down on the door handle.

"But I can't be held responsible for my actions.."

Clint stepped in, a small smirk on his face. Now that you weren't desperately trying to avoid his eye sight and were relatively calm, you noticed that he was still wearing the same clothes from earlier. The same pleasing smell of cologne from earlier met you too, though you didn't think on it actively.

"So, where's the problem?" Clint asked brusquely, looking up and down your barely-decent form.

"You look ready to go to me."

You glared at him and raised your eyebrow, locking your jaw to the side in annoyance.

"Clint..." you warned.

Clint chuckled to himself, and splayed his hands out towards you in surrender.

"Fine, fine. Let's get this over with." he stated.

You bent over, scooping up the t shirt and handing it towards him quickly. He stared down at it briefly, unmoving, then muttered an "Oh." to himself and took it. He piled it up at one of the sleeves and stepped towards you, looking down at your stiff arm.

"Alright, uh.. I'm gonna try to make this as painless as possible, alright?" he assured, slowly lowering the t-shirt down to your arm and hooking it on.

You nodded and watched with more tension than was probably necessary as he shimmied the t-shirt up your arm towards your shoulder. He commanded you to turn a bit so he could put it on the rest of the way, but once he turned his back to you he sighed and muttered something to himself.

"Look, (firstname).. uh, your bra?" he began.

"Yeah, what about it?" you asked quickly, raising a hand to hold it up at the front, just in case.

"Well, the hooks are all off." he continued.

"If you keep wearin' it like this it's gonna pop off halfway through the day."

"Oh." you muttered, slightly embarrassed again. As if getting him to help with your t-shirt wasn't bad enough, now you can't even put on a bra?

"Can you fix it, please?" you asked hopefully.

"Sure." Clint responded, letting the t-shirt hang loose around your shoulder for a second and undoing your bra. For a moment, you felt him freeze slightly, and you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch, but since you were asking him to do something so unusual you didn't consider it your place to tell him to hurry up. Eventually you felt the bra tighten as the hooks were redone properly, and Clint took a hold of your t-shirt again, sliding it up and pushing it over your head with some difficulty. From there, you could just barely push your good arm through the sleeve by yourself, and once everything was where it was supposed to be, you pulled the t-shirt down a shook around a bit to loosen it up. Sighing with relief, you turned to Clint, smiling graciously.

"Thanks Clint, I really appreciate it."

Clint nodded and stepped back, holding one hand over the other in front of his stomach.

"No problem. You ready to go?" he asked, looking you up and down again.

"No, I don't have shoes on yet." you said, stepping best him and moving towards your bed, where your shoes lay.

You pulled on your shoes quickly, thanking yourself mentally for your habit of just pulling them off instead of untying them first. After, you looked up casually, and gasped in delight when you found your hairbrush sitting on top of one of the box piles. You moved over, grabbing it and walking past a bored looking Clint towards the bathroom. You looked in the mirror and brushed your hair repeatedly, struggling against your formed habit of pulling it into a tail right away to try preserve your shoulder. As you struggled not to move your arm, you suddenly remembered about your sling and turned, looking around frantically for it. It lay in a crumpled mess in the corner of the bathroom, thankfully only slightly damp. You bent over to scoop it up, and turned it around in confusion for a minute before realizing which way it was put on. You considered calling Clint for a second, but you quickly realized that putting it on was much easier to handle than you thought. Regardless, Clint appeared in the doorway, letting out a dramatic sigh and looking at his empty wrist as if there was a watch there. You rolled your eyes at his behavior at playfully pushed him out of the way as you stepped back out of the bathroom. You looked over yourself once more, nodding to yourself in affirmation. Your hair was still down, but at least it was dried out by now.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." you announced, turning to Clint.

Clint started, jumping and mumbling as if woken up from a sleep. You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head and trying to hold back another smile.

"You know, for a trained agent, you're quite a child." you scolded, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Says the girl who can't dress herself." Clint retorted, pursing his lips and staring at nothing on the wall.

"That's not fair." you muttered, pointing sharply at your brace.

"Whatever." Clint said dismissively, walking past you and heading for the door.

"You need me to hold your hand an' make sure you don't fall too?" he asked, stretching out his hand towards you.

Instead of smacking his hand away, you decided to meet his childishness with equal childishness, and firmly grasped his hand with your good arm. If he was going to act this way, then you would make sure you would do it back. You needed  _some_ way to work your pride back after what just happened, anyway. If you lasted longer than him, you would consider it a victory.  He seemed momentarily caught off guard and stared down at the hand, and even seemed to blush slightly with surprise, but then he looked up to you and nodded, grinning slyly.

"Fine, if that's how you wanna play." he growled playfully, tightly gripping your hand and pulling you towards him slightly.

"Let the games begin."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what's that?! Claireton actually updated a fic?! What on earth is going on here?
> 
> Sorry for such a long, sudden break guys. I just had to take a break from writing for a while. I was doing too much in a short amount of time and I just burned through all the passion I had for it. I tried to start again by making a one shot, but I totally forgot about the "drafts deleted after 1 month thing." 6000+ words down the drain, and a whole lot of frustration. Anyway, here you go.

Clint walked out of the room, pulling you along with the grip he had on your hand. You were already starting to regret your choice somewhat, but you couldn't back off, not now that you had already initiated it.

"Jesus, slow down a bit would ya?" you complained, walking much faster than usual to try keep up with his pace.

"Nope." he replied flatly. "If It's too much for you, you can always just forfeit."

You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head as you walked. "Forfeit"? Apparently Clint had had the same thoughts as you about turning this into a competition of sorts, and now that you knew he wanted to win, it refreshed your own determination to be the victor.

"In your dreams." you growled, straightening yourself up and adjusting to his walking.

You managed to begin outpacing him to the elevator, a sly smile on your face. This may have been the most childish thing you've ever done, but it was sure giving you some sort of satisfying rush. Like when you were a child and you used to race your friends to things for next to no reason other than the sake of racing. You ended up at the elevator first, giving a quick laugh of triumph and turning to Clint with your nose raised.

"Aw, sorry." you said in feigned pity. "Was that  _too much for you?"_

Clint nodded in acceptance, closing his eyes with the slightest of frowns on his face.

"Alright, you beat me." he stated. "Now call the elevator for us."

You took a breath to say more as you turned back to the button, but stopped, your eyes wide. You stared at the button with the slightest sense of betrayal in your gaze, only now just realizing that in this new arrangement you had no use of either of your hands. Your bad one was buried in your sling, and the other was tightly clasped in Clint's. You fought with yourself in trying to decide to press it through other methods and give in to Clint. You glared at him, realizing he must have known this would happen all along.

"Aw, sorry." he mimicked, a cocky smirk on his face. "Is that button giving you trouble? How careless of me."

He stepped forward towards the button, but remained facing you. In a last line of defense, you refused to shift your position, leaving little space for him to step in. Nonetheless, he stepped between you and the wall, leaving you at eye level with the near top of his neck, and less than a ruler's length from his body. A sudden wild flurry of emotions in you left your heart buzzing like crazy and your skin crawling as you looked down slightly at his chest. You didn't know what to even begin thinking about and ended up squeezing his hand in surprise as the feelings wracked your body.

"Jesus, (firstname). You trying to squeeze my hand off?" he hissed, frowning again slightly.

You looked up to his face, prepared to apologize, but as soon as his eyes caught yours a second wave hit you, automatically snapping your mouth shut and sending frissons through you. You could feel your cheeks flare as you grew more and more embarrassed at the situation, still entirely unsure what to think. Apparently, Clint noticed this, as he gave you his own look of surprise and quickly averted his gaze, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head with his free hand. In unimaginable mercy, the elevator doors opened, and you both took the opportunity to dash in without another word.

You both stood in the middle of the elevator, looking down at the floor intensely. You couldn't stop replaying the moment in your head over and over, and you wondered if Clint was doing the same. You wanted to look at him, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop thinking about what just happened, devoting every last bit of function in your brain to reliving it. You both still held the grip on each others hands tightly, but the atmosphere had completely shifted to one of incredible awkwardness. You thought about just releasing it and forgetting about the whole silly competition you had made up, but you still didn't want to release his hand, now for completely different reasons you couldn't identify. Even if you _did_ let go, he had an iron grip of his own on you, and you weren't sure that he would let go himself. Every second in the elevator only brought more and more confusion to your mind until at last the doors sprang open.

You both headed for the exit at the same time, stopping abruptly after as there simply wasn't enough space for you both to go trough at the same time. You didn't want to just burst through first as you thought it would make Clint believe that you were flustered about what had happened. You _were_ ,  but you didn't want him to know that.

"Uh, sorry." you muttered, taking the smallest of steps back.

"No, go for it." he responded, clearing his throat lowly after and briefly scratching the back of his head.

You opened your mouth to insist, but stopped, instead giving a quick nod and stepping out. At first, the lobby seemed to be empty as you stared through the glass to the streets outside, the muted sounds of everyday life making their way through. After you started to follow a cluster of people with your gaze, however, a new figure in the lobby soon made their way onto the scene: Steve. It took you a moment to register his presence, but once your brain caught up, you smiled at him and acknowledged Clint stepping up beside you as Steve approached you both. He perked an eyebrow and stole a glance at your hands, a somewhat sly smile on his face.

"Nice to see you two getting along." he commented, his gaze flickering between both of you as he crossed his arms.

"Shut up." Clint barked, glaring at Steve. You couldn't really tell if the slight blush on his face was just in your head.

"Y-yeah, it's.. um. Shut up." you joined, your voice just a little quiet. You definitely weren't imagining the heating up of your own face. How could you explain it to Steve when you weren't even sure of what this was yourself?

Steve unfolded his arms, splaying his hands out in front of him in surrender, though the smile did not leave his features.

"So, uh, where's Natasha?" Clint asked, looking over Steve's shoulder.

"Oh, she got called in last second." Steve replied, giving a little shrug.

"Couldn't make it."

You sighed inwardly, running your tongue over your top teeth. It was really too bad. You were starting to like Natasha, and you would have liked to use the opportunity to get to know her more, even in spite of the circumstances. You supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world having to talk with these two, though it would likely be hard to focus talking to Clint with your current predicament.

Clint nodded quietly, then glanced around the lobby once more before giving the side of his jaw a scratch.

"Well, you still wanna go?" he wondered.

"Yeah, I'm up for it." Steve answered, nodding before switching his gaze to you.

You stared back at him, curious about why he was looking at you and trying to identify something in his eyes. Why was he looking at you? Was he trying to tell you something? You burned through different ideas in your head of what it was about when without warning, thoughts of earlier when Steve was holding your hand intruded your mind. You felt your eyes widen and your face heat up further as you continued to stare at each other. You unintentionally compared it to what was happening now, but before you could truly go into it Clint's voice called you back into awareness.

"(Firstname)? You wanna go or not?" he asked, looking at you with a hint of a frown.

You stared at him blankly for a few moments as your brain struggled to register what was going on. Once it did, intense embarrassment filled you. Steve was looking at you because he was waiting for you to answer. There was no 'hidden meaning' to it.  Not trusting your voice to conceal your feelings, you simply nodded and glanced back at Steve,  who smirked at you.

"Right." Clint said slowly, looking at you with some suspicion. He looked down to your connected hands and gave them a seemingly random, gentle shake before looking back up to you and Steve.

"Let's go then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it guys! I'd like to say expect an update soon, but unfortunately... probably not.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here you are guys, another chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Clint stepped out of the lobby doors with you in tow, earning a nod from you as he held the door open for you. Your state of affairs meant he pretty much had to,  but it was a kind decision nonetheless. The door closed softly once Steve stepped out behind you both, trading the calmed silence of the lobby for the loud hustle and bustle of city life. As you surveyed the people around you, Steve stepped up beside you, giving a look up and down the street of his own as he spoke.

"So, what's _really_ going on there?" he asked,  his gaze seemingly caught on a vendor across the street.

You arched an eyebrow and look up at him, somewhat amused by his insistence. Being unsure how to answer, you glanced at Clint, though his interest was in the traffic, waiting for an opportunity to cross. The noises around you seemed to dim your conversation to him too. You sighed defeatedly and looked back to Steve, who still hadn't switched his gaze to you.

"I told you, it's nothing. Clint and I are just having a little competition is all." you replied, giving a wry smile after.

Steve nodded, a smile growing on his face as he finally looked down at you.

"Alright, if you say so."

You opened your mouth to question him when a sudden tug on your arm caught you off guard, causing you to gasp in surprise. You snapped your head toward Clint, who was pulling you across the street with briskness.

"Jeez, Clint." you snapped, speaking loudly to be heard over the traffic. "I already have one messed up arm, I don't need two."

"Ah, cry me a river." he answered, giving your arm another firm tug. 

You bit back a response and allowed him to lead you across the street. Seeing the still coming traffic brought the subtlest sense of worry in you, and you instinctively shot a glance down at your feet, trying to ensure you didn't fall. It was clear that you would be on the sidewalk long before the traffic came close, but what if you fell?

Thankfully, you made it across with no trouble. You looked up and down the street with curiosity, scanning the various buildings before Clint pulled you along again. You moved to his side as he walked, Steve eventually catching up, and idly looked over some of the people you passed. Many of them carried various types of bags, and a few were talking on their phones as they walked. None of them seemed to spare you and Clint a second glance, and you wondered if this was a sight people caught often around here. Of course, none of them new the factors behind the action, so to them it probably looked like it was an act of affection.

Clint led you around a corner to a street that was busy in its own right, but less so than the one you had just been on. He stopped after passing around three buildings and looked around for a second before nodding towards one with large glass windows and moving toward it. He stopped a few feet from the door and looked up at the sign above, while you took the opportunity to look through the windows. It was definitely a cafe of sorts, with various standalone tables and booths lining the walls, most all filled with couples or groups in conversation.

"Uh, this is it, right?" he wondered aloud.

"Yeah." Steve answered, walking past the both of you.

He pushed open the door to the café, stepping to the side and holding it open for you and Clint.

"Thanks." you said, smiling at Steve, who nodded at you and allowed the door to swing closed.

The three of you surveyed the place, searching for a suitable table to sit at. You spotted a table in the middle of the floor, and nodded silently toward it. While taking a step toward it, however, Clint seemed to have decided on a separate one, and you clashed with each other, earning a yelp of surprise from you as you lost your footing and started to topple backwards. As you hurtled toward the floor, your eyes zipped around the room of their own accord, taking in the various goings on of the people without your intention. A man at the counter was rising from his seat, his eyes locked on you. There was no way he would reach you in time, though in the back of your mind you still appreciated the intention. A waitress behind the counter had her mouth widened as she clenched a coffee cup tightly, watching the situation with clear tension. You screwed your eyes shut and tensed in anticipation for the fall, when instead of a hard, flat surface, your back was met with something else entirely, as well as your hip. Your eyes snapped open again, intending to look around and see what had happened, but they were instantly met with Clint's body and face leaning over you, a look of concern on his face.

"You okay, (firstname)?" he asked, staring you in the eyes.

He had managed to catch you, his strong arms holding you aloft. As you looked up at him, those intense feelings began to infest you again. Your breathing began to roar like thunder in your ears, and your heart was entirely aflutter. You swallowed thickly, pleading with your mouth to form some words, though none made an appearance. Instead, you settled for some quick, repetitive nodding at him. Clint gave a nod of his own, still looking down at you. You expected him to lift you up right away, but he lingered for a few moments, casting a glance up and down your body. Eventually, he raised you until you could place your feet on the floor, though he kept his eyes locked onto your yours. You could sense the people around the café relaxing and turning back to their own goods, even though you didn't take your eyes off of Clint. The same heat you felt in your face from earlier made a reappearance, only adding onto your embarrassment and fusing with these peculiar feelings. Though the conversations of the other diners and the general din of the café continued, it all seemed muted as you stared into Clint's eyes, a tense silence between the both of you. Something in the back of your mind screamed at you to say something, but your mouth seemed to have locked itself shut and refused to open. Desperation growing in tandem with your embarrassment, your eyes scanned the area around you for anything that might free you from this whole situation. Your good hand clenched as you tried to force yourself to say something, when a sudden realization came upon you: You _could_ clench your hand.

Your gaze snapped down, and you noticed the Clint's hands were by his side. Having absolutely no clue what else to do, you said the first thing to come to mind.

"I win!" you blurted, holding up your free hand for Clint to see.

It was probably the dumbest thing you could have chosen to do at that moment, but it was the only thing you could think of. Clint frowned in confusion as he stared at your hand, then turned up his own, switching his gaze to it as his eyes widened in realization.

"Wait, that doesn't count." he declared, looking back to you and crossing his arms.

"Uh, yes it does." you retaliated, forcing a triumphant smile through the feelings that still wreaked havoc inside you.

"Well, _you_ let go first when you fell." he stated "So _I_ win."

"What? No I didn't." you denied, shaking your head. "Why would I _let go_ if I was falling? I would have grabbed you tighter."

Clint opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when a young looking woman in uniform came up to both of you.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" she asked, looking at you with her eyebrows slightly perked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." you said, nodding with a small smile.

"Well, it's a good thing your boyfriend caught you, isn't it?" she joked, looking between you with a smile.

Both yours and Clint's eyes widened, and you could swear those feelings inside you were on the cusp of bursting out of your chest.

"O-oh, we-we're n-" you stammered, though the sudden urge to swallow hit you and you were cut short.

Your eyes switched to Clint, waiting for him to give a refusal of his own, but you found him to be looking down to the ground, embarrassment clear on his own face. Before you could recollect yourself to finish, the woman nodded with some awkwardness and nodded her head toward a window booth.

"There's some seats over there. Make yourself comfortable and come on up when you know what you want." she stated, before looking back to you.

"Will do, thanks." Steve said suddenly, causing you to flinch slightly and turn your head to him. You had managed to forget he was even there.

Steve nodded at you, an expectant expression on his face. You glanced at Clint, who seemed to have buried his interest in the picture of a coffee mug on the wall. You considered saying something, but you were clueless as to what it was, so you turned and headed for the booth shown to you, Steve close behind with Clint following after. Once you reached it, you sat onto the long chair and awkwardly shifted yourself to the window, having only one arm to use. Steve sat in beside you, while Clint took the opposite seat, sitting directly across from you. A silence began to form between the three of you, and you fixated your sights on the engraving of a coffee mug that seemed to have been carved into each table of the place. You started to replay the moment you fell in your head over and over, straining to remember every last detail you could when Clint had caught you. At last, Steve broke the silence as he turned his head to the both of you.

"So, you guys know what you want?" he asked.

"I'll just get a coffee." Clint answered, and you nodded in agreement.

"I'm pretty hungry too. I hope they serve those chocolate croissants here." you added, starting to shift towards the outside of the booth, but Steve held up a hand, stopping you.

"You guys wait here. I'll get it for you." he declared, nodding at you both and walking off before you could protest.

You looked back at Clint, giving him a flat smile and edging back to the window. He seemed to be staring at the Back of Steve's head with anger, though you didn't want to call him on it. In truth, you weren't sure what to say at all until the fiasco with the coffee from the Tower popped into your head.

"Well, at least if Steve's getting it I don't have to worry about it being drugged." you offered, giving a one sided smirk.

Clint chuckled quietly and nodded, though he still looked down at the table.

"Yeah, sorry about that." he answered.

"Ah, don't worry about it." you said, shaking your head dismissively.

Though satisfied with your successful attempt at interacting with him, you realized you had never even thanked him for stopping you splitting your head open on the floor.

"Thanks, by the way." you stated.

Clint finally looked up at you, though his expression was drowned in confusion.

"Uh, you're welcome? Do you like being drugged or something?" he asked.

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes at him, smiling at his confusion. It was hard to tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

"Clint, no. I mean for catching me." you answered, laughing through your words.

Clint sighed at himself and leaned back in his seat, starting to chuckle and shaking his head.

"Oh, yeah." he managed to say through his laughter.

He probably felt embarrassed, but all of this laughing was easing up the awkwardness that had been there before, so you decided to egg it on.

"You seriously thought I meant the drug thing?" you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin against your good hand, with your elbow propping it up.

"Yeah, I just-" Clint tried, though he was stopped by his own laughter.

Watching him laugh brought on a smile of your own, and it created a feeling inside you that you enjoyed, so you sat watching him lose himself in hysterics with a smile. Steve came up to you both holding a large tray full of goods and took an amused glance at Clint.

"Looks like you two are having fun. Did I miss something?" he asked as he slid back into the seat, positioning the tray in the middle of the table.

"We were talking about that time Clint drugged me with coffee." you answered, smirking at Steve. That wasn't the full reason why he was laughing, but you felt as though explaining it would take away from it.

Steve nodded and looked down to his coffee, picking up one of the sandwiches he got and taking a bite from it. You took your own items from the tray and bit into your croissant, sighing with pleasure as the wonderful flavours met your tongue. Steve looked over at you and smirked before looking back to his own food and drinking some coffee. Once you had finished your bite, you looked back over at Clint, amazed to see him still laughing to himself as he poked around his food, unable to eat it in his current state.

"Jeez, Clint." you started, raising your eyebrows. "It wasn't _that_ funny."

Clint shook his head as he laughed, holding up a hand with his index finger extended, asking you to wait. You readjusted yourself in the chair and stared at him in anticipation before he finally calmed down enough to speak.

"It's not that, I was just thinkin' of-" Clint tried, stopping to laugh a few more times. "When we were testing you, when Lea fell over in front of you."

He resumed laughing, and you opened your mouth to question it, but you were caught off by Steve spluttering beside you. You turned your head to him to find him coughing into his fist, though it was obvious from his expression that he was laughing at the same time.

"Wha-, what's funny about that?" you wondered, looking between them with a frown of confusion.

"You-your face!" Clint exclaimed, starting to laugh again.

Embarrassed and a little hurt, you frowned, and looked at Steve, who had also started laughing, though quietly, as he stared down at the coffee cup in his hand. Before you could say anything else, Clint spoke up again.

"It was- it was like," he laughed, starting to make a face of exaggerated terror before it crumbled and he fell back into his laughing fit.

"That is _not_ funny!" you complained, your stomach twisting at your embarrassment. "I thought she _died!_ "

Neither of the men answered, caught in their own laughter, and you resorted to leaning back and staring out of the window, a pout on your face. It was childish, yes, but there wasn't anything else to do.

"Aw, come on (firstname)." Clint teased.

You simply shook your head and picked up your coffee with your good hand, sipping from it as you watched the people outside go about their business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! Sorry for the kinda lame ending, but I wanted to finish this today and I've got other things to do. I might just have the next one up next week, so be on the look out!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait, just been pretty busy lately :(

After waiting what was, in your opinion, an overstayed welcome of laughter, the two men at last seemed to calm down, settling and relaxing into staring at their orders with smiles on their faces. You turned back to them, having finished your coffee, grateful for the release from your embarrassment.

"Are you done now?" you asked, your eyebrows peaked in blank curiosity.

Clint began to chuckle quietly again, and you sighed, starting to pull your gaze back to the window.

"Yeah, yeah (firstname)." Steve said, nodding his head and patting your shoulder.

You looked back to him and gave a wry smirk. It was a _little_ amusing, but being at the expense of the joke was not your ideal way of enjoying yourself.

"Come on." he ordered, flicking his head toward the exit and starting to climb out of the booth.

You nodded and followed him out, glaring at Clint good naturedly as you did so. You and Steve looked at each other with a sigh as you waited for him to stop chuckling long enough to step out himself.

"I guess we should probably pay." you mentioned, digging in your pockets with your good hand as the two men nodded and did the same.

Clint and Steve pulled their wallets from their persons and began to take out some cash, with you searching desperately in your own pockets for yours, but finding them empty of anything. You groaned and placed a hand on your face with annoyance, shaking your head at the same time.

"Forget your wallet? Steve asked, flashing you a smirk. Without waiting for an answer, he took out some extra money and placed it on the table.

You thought about protesting, but there wasn't really another way to solve the problem, so you settled for a grateful smile and nodded at him.

"Thanks Steve. I really appreciate it. I'll pay you back. Promise." you said.

"Nah, don't worry about it." he replied, folding up his wallet and putting it back in his back pocket.

Before you could insist, he patted your shoulder again and stepped past you, with Clint close behind. Steve held the door open for you, and you nodded at him, stepping out to the busy streets again. The memory of holding Clint's hand on the way here suddenly came to you, and you involuntarily looked down to yours, only looking back up once Clint himself stepped past. You followed him across the street at the first opportunity, glaring at a taxi driver that beeped at you despite being quite a distance away.

The three of you stepped back into the lobby of Stark Tower, with Steve and Clint ahead of you talking quietly about something. You idly wondered what it was about, though you assumed it was none of your business so you tried to focus your sights on a fancy design that had been painted on the wall. Steve lightly pressed the button to call the elevator, continuing to speak with Clint in the process as you stood a small distance away, tapping the toes of your shoes into the ground in wait. You turned your head toward the glass walls, watching the people go about their lives outside and trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation beside you. Unfortunately, you were so focused on not listening that it made it hard to focus on much else, and you jumped slightly when Steve called your name from behind, motioning to the open elevator doors once you turned.

The three of you stepped into the elevator, with Clint leaning his back against the wall and Steve clasping his hands over his waist. You simply stood beside the doors and stared at them, comfortable but unsure what to say. A few silent moments passed before Clint spoke up, causing you both to turn your head to him.

"I wonder what Nat got called in for." he wondered aloud, his gaze stuck on the floor in thought.

"Not sure, she wouldn't say. Said it was important, though. You know how she is." Steve answered.

Looking between them both at the wall, you wondered yourself about what she was doing. Something exciting and dangerous, surely. You worried for her safety briefly before remembering who she was and dismissing it. Little as you might have known about the, you were sure S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't foolish enough to send her off alone if they didn't think she could handle it. Perhaps she wasn't even alone. Would they send her off with people who weren't part of the Avengers?

You came round to thinking about your own future in missions. It was impossible to guess what kind of tasks they would put you up to. Just thinking about the possibilities made your heart quiver with anticipation. After a few moments of busy thought, you came to remember who you were standing in the elevator with. There wasn't much else you could think of saying, so you decided to pose the question to them.

"Hey, what kind of jobs _do_ you guys usually get up to?" you asked, switching your gaze between the two of them.

"The jobs that need to get done." Clint answered. You assumed it was meant to be a joke, though his face had a certain hardness to it that suggested he was serious.

"Wow, thank you for that _stunning_ description." you said in faux incredulity, pressing your good hand against your chest in mock.

Clint smirked at you, his previous expression shifting to one of slight amusement.

"Funny. Your brace come up with that?" he retorted.

"Listen here, Barton." you warned, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. "I wouldn't even _have_ this stupid thing on if it wasn't for you guys."

"Well, nobody made you run through the door." Steve interjected.

You looked at him, a little caught off guard. From what you gathered, he usually preferred not getting involved in things like this.

"I thought I was going to _die."_ you said incredulously.

"Yeah, but you weren't." Clint answered, causing you to turn your head back to him in exasperation.

"This is unbelievable." you muttered. You knew they were just teasing you, but there was still some indignation over the whole thing.

The two men chuckled quietly and seemed to let it go, going back to looking at the doors of the elevator in wait.

"So, (firstname), you mind if I ask you about your old job?" Clint asked. His eyebrows were perked with some curiosity when you turned to him, though his overall expression was serious.

You faltered, not certain what to say, or even what to think. It was an awfully sudden and demanding question. What could he want to know? Why was he asking? The thought that he was asking because he was ordered to crossed your mind; that he never even liked you and it was all just a ploy to gain your trust. It hurt you inside on a level you hadn't felt before, but something else in you insisted that you were over reacting to the whole thing. You told yourself it was just as probable that he was making conversation, and there was nothing else to it. You put a smile on your face as you reflected on how quick you were to shift moods and jump to conclusions at the simplest of sentences.

"Um, of course not. Why would I?" you responded, giving a small, nonchalant laugh after with an attempt at seeming indifferent.

Clint made a small sound of acknowledgement and nodded, looking down to the floor in thought. His jaw was locked to the side slightly as though thinking hard, and you inwardly winced in belief that he was thinking up a difficult question.

"You ever killed anyone?" he finally asked, looking back up at you with a somewhat indifferent expression. Then again, he was an assassin, so it probably wasn't as crazy a question as it might be for some others.

You shook your head and gave a flat, wry smile. Despite all the trouble you'd faced over the years, no one had actually outright died at your hands.

"No, I- I'm more of a flight than fight kinda person." you answered, giving a little shrug. For whatever reason, saying this out loud made you feel a little embarrassed.

"Well that can't be true, 'cause you came back for me that time." Clint responded. He seemed to be looking at you as though he was trying to get you to admit you lied.

"Well, that was different." you replied.

"How?" he questioned. "Why am I the exception?"

You thought you could see the smallest amount of hopefulness in his gaze, and again you faltered, simply staring at him as you tried to think. Ideally you could say that you went back because it was the right thing to do, but that wasn't entirely true, and you didn't want to lie to him. In fairness, you had gone back because you felt you had owed him, but was that not somewhat selfish, going back to clear your own debt and save yourself from regret? You had known that if you didn't go back to save him that the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't have been happy with you, even though he would have lived, so that was just another self serving reason to add on. You weren't entirely sure yourself if there was more to it than even you knew.

"I- You showed me around. That's all." you said curtly. It was a little abrasive, and you hadn't really thought about it before you said it, but it was out in the open now.

"Oh. Tha-that's all, huh?" Clint asked, trailing his gaze off to the opposite wall and chewing the inside of his cheek.

"Yep. That's all." you answered shortly, trying to sound indifferent despite the obvious disappointment in his voice.

A sudden adverse feeling came over you, and you instantly knew it was for the way you had made Clint feel. Seeing him try to hide the dejection in his expression made you feel like terrible for what you said. Thinking on it, you had essentially told him that he meant nothing to you apart from when you needed him. You stole a brief glance at Steve, who had taken to staring straight ahead without emotion. If you had to guess, he was trying to pretend he wasn't in this situation right now.

You intended to alleviate your impact on Clint, but before you had a chance to speak the elevator doors pulled open, welcoming you to the floor that held your rooms. Clint stepped out  near immediately, with Steve following behind you as you walked out. The three of you moved down the hallway toward the room with the TV you had found when you first woke that day. As you walked toward the room, you looked toward Clint's back, trying to pinpoint his emotional state. Was he upset at you? Angry? Maybe he didn't even care and you were just overthinking things again. Either way, you felt obligated to say something to make your seem less cruel.

Clint led the way into the room, sitting down heavily onto the couch and spreading his arms out across the backrest and picking up the remote to turn on the TV. Before you could decide on where to seat yourself, Steve came from behind you and took the only single armchair that didn't have a mess of junk piling on it. With your body moving seemingly of its own accord, you sat yourself down on the couch, a little closer to Clint than you had hoped, though you felt as though moving further away would look weird at this point. The three of you watched in silence, each one pretending to be interested in the news report currently on air. You idly rubbed your hand over the smooth surface of your brace, unsure what to say, if anything. Once the commercials came on, Steve stood up from his chair, clearing his throat quietly before speaking.

"I, uh, I gotta go do somethin'." he stated, turning and walking back off toward the elevator.

You followed his steps with your gaze, internally yelling at him for leaving you like this.

 You turned back to the TV, now needlessly hyper-aware of Clint's actions. Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, he stared up at the TV with next to no emotion on his face, his chest heaving up and down at a steady rate. You cleared your throat and re-adjusted your seating, falling back to lean against the couch and letting out a sound of surprise when your back collided with Clint's arm. You snapped your head around to him, sitting back up straight with your chest burning in nerves and sudden unidentified feelings again.

"Sorry! Sorry. I didn't- sorry." you mumbled, turning back to the TV with your back rigid in embarrassment.

Clint did not respond, or even move himself, and watching him again from the corner of your eye, you could see that he held a smirk on his face as he looked back to the TV.  You rubbed the back of your neck and switched your gaze to the floor in thought. If you were going to apologize for earlier, now would probably be the best time.

"Hey, look.." you began, turning your head to him. Clint raised his eyebrows silently as he looked over at you, otherwise unmoving.

"Um, about what I said back there, in the elevator. I, uh, I didn't mean it, y'know?" you stated, looking at him expectantly.

"Huh? What'ya talking about?" he questioned, frowning slightly. You were quite sure he knew what you were talking about, but you continued anyway.

"Like, you don't.. You mean more to me than just a guide." you said quietly, the feelings in your chest burning with such intensity you felt as though you might catch on fire.

"Oh yeah?" Clint asked, the smirk returning to his face as he looked at you, though he still did not shift position.

"Come on, don't do this to me." you complained, giving him a one sided smile in pleading. He was clearly trying to tease you, but it didn't make you feel any less excited.

"Do what?" he chuckled, finally moving toward you and leaning his elbows against his knees with one hand draped in between. He was close enough that his knee just barely touched off yours, and he rubbed yours slowly with his hand, earning a small laugh from you with a reproachful head shake.

"Clint, stop." you warned in jest, shoving his knee away with your good hand, though he just allowed it to swing back into you after.

"Stop what?" he pressed, continuing to rub your knee. You kept laughing, though it mostly served to hide the intense feelings that were rampaging inside of you.

"Jesus Christ." you muttered, laughing through your words as you stood up. Underneath all of your feelings, you were enjoying the moment, but it was starting to become too much to bear.

You turned toward the couch, and gasped in fright when you found Clint standing right behind you. You began to step back, but stopped when a pressure on your back kept you in place. Clint had placed an arm on the small of your back, and you involuntarily let out a heated sigh, staring up at his eyes as he looked into yours.

"Uh, wh-what are you doing?" you mumbled, a heat spreading from the area where he touched you to the rest of your body.

"So, how much _do_ I mean to you?" he asked, his voice low and quiet.

Before you could answer, however, he begun slowly leaning toward you as your heart rate became a near constant hum with speed. Your breath hitched as you were entirely unable to move, constricted by both Clint and your own emotions. You felt the heat from his breath against your lower face as he came closer, your mind buzzing with action. His lips had barely brushed against your own when another voice filled the room.

"Well, well. What have we here?" Tony wondered, his arms folded as he stepped into the room.

Both yours and Clint's heads snapped in his direction, and you could feel an immediate blush storming your cheeks.

"Oh, don't mind me. Please, continue."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the chapter wasn't really worth the time it took, I'll try to have the next one up faster!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? This update isn't three weeks late, what are you talking about?

"Oh, don't mind me. Please, continue."

Tony gave a sly smile as he looked at the pair of you, both shuffling awkwardly with surprise and embarrassment.

"Clint was just checking something for me." you blurted out, turning to fully face him. There were likely a hundred better explanations to think of, but your panic led you to use the first you could think of.

"Oh? And what's that?" Tony prodded. The look on his face told you that even though he was teasing, he still wasn't prepared to leave until he got an answer.

You looked at him helplessly, trying to think of an appropriate answer, but not a single thing came to your mind. There were few answers that wouldn't sound weird, and even the better ones weren't so believable. Before you could pick one, Clint spoke up, earning a slight jump from you as you had almost forgotten him despite his proximity.

"I was just checking her brace." Clint claimed, and you felt his hand come to rest on your bad arm, as if he was trying to prove it.

"Oh, I didn't realize she had a brace on her lips too." Tony retorted.

"Maybe you guys shou-"

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but can I get some help here?" Steve interrupted, suddenly making a re-appearance with his head around the corner of the hallway.

"I can't-"

"I'll help!" you blurted out, infinitely grateful for the release from your current situation. At that exact moment, the actual problem he needed help with was of little concern to you.

You darted in his direction at as fast a walking pace as you could muster, feeling Clint's hand slide off of your arm in the process and trying to act oblivious to the strange stares directed at you.

"Saved by the living popsicle." Tony muttered as you passed him, though you successfully kept your visage of feigned enthusiasm for Steve.

You didn't dare steal a glance back at Clint once you reached Steve, being entirely unfaithful in your ability to not make a show of it.

"Thanks, (firstname)." Steve said once you reached him, turning and starting to walk down the hallway with you close behind.

Hey i-it's no- uh, no problem." you mumbled, your thoughts still clouded with the events that had just happened.

After the passing of a few moments with no more words, you spoke up in at attempt to break the uneasy atmosphere you could feel in the air.

"So what do you need help with?" you asked, voice more normal than you had hoped for.

"Uh, it's a little embarrassing, but..." Steve trailed off as he came to a stop outside a door that looked the same as the one for your room.

You made an attempt not to flinch right there and then. Something embarrassing? You prayed that this didn't translate into something overly personal or private. Were it most anyone else, especially Tony, you feared that this would quickly approach inappropriate terms, and that was even if what had just happened with Clint never figured into the equation.

Steve opened the door, but stepped to the side and motioned for you to enter before him. You nodded to him in gratitude and moved in, your eyes immediately scanning the room with appreciation. It must have been his own room, judging by the various older looking items placed with care around the area. Before Steve entered, you gave the different objects a half interested inspection. Something that captured your attention more than the others was an old photo of a man whom looked around Steve's current age. You could swear that you recognized him on some level, but the information just refused to make itself known in your brain, instead opting to lie just on the very edge. Steve closing the door behind you brought your focus back to your current situation, leaving the man in the photo as a mystery for another time.

"So, I would'a asked someone else for this, but I think the others are getting a little annoyed with me at this point." Steve stated, flashing you a bright smirk, though after a moment it dropped and his eyes trained on yours, with his right hand extending towards you ever so slightly as if to silence you.

"N-not that you're just like a last resort or anything. I just meant, uh..." Steve's explanation died out as he drew out the vowel in a deep groan.

You chuckled quietly, Steve's demeanor lifting your spirits as he stared at you in lost hopelessness.

"It's okay Steve. I'm not offended or anything." you claimed, smiling at him as relief washed over his expression. Having the chance to make yourself seem more friendly, you took it.

"You know, I've been shot at a few times, and called every name under the sun. Sometimes simultaneously. Not being your go-to problem solver isn't going to ruin my day." you joked.

Steve gave a chuckle that you thought would send your heart into overdrive, though you made a commendable effort to conceal it. After, he strolled over to a computer that had been set up near his bed with you close behind. He bent to turn it on then turned to you as you waited for it to boot up.

"See, well, the problem is.." he began, turning to the computer and beginning to slide the mouse around. After a few moments you realized that the pointer itself was not moving on the screen, leading you to step forward and look closer, idly scratching your braced arm.

"The computer keeps ejecting the mouse and I can't figure out how to stop it. It's kinda getting irritating." he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You looked to him quizzically, instantly as perplexed as he appeared to be. You hadn't ever heard of a computer that removed its own equipment.

"And this just happens, like overnight or?" you asked.

"No, I've checked. It only happens when I'm not here." Steve answered, a frown of confusion creasing his features.

Your perplexion only worsened as you stared at Steve blankly. This problem made no sense to you at all.

"Maybe... maybe show me where you plug in the mouse?" you said uncertainly, thinking there could possibly be a faulty port or something of the like. As for only happening when Steve was gone, well, knowing Stark Tower, the port was probably half sentient.

Steve nodded and pulled back the desk that the computer had been set up around, bringing the back of the tower into view and exposing the cables present.

"See.." Steve lifted a cable with a USB connector on the end, then looked to you, seemingly for instruction.

You moved closer, then went to lower yourself, but found it a little difficult your incapacitated arm throwing off your balance.

"Do you need some help?" Steve asked, already starting to make a move.

"No, no, it's fine." you responded, shaking your head and causing him to stop as you successfully lowered yourself with your good arm for balance. It was a kind sentiment, but you weren't ready to abandon all independence just yet.

You held your able hand out to Steve, taking and inspecting the connection once he gave it to you. It looked like any other cable to you, but you weren't even sure you would notice if something _was_ off. The entire affair was just a means to escape Tony, after all. While you stared at the cable, you found your mind trailing off and back to the living room, to what had happened with Clint. Should you have been glad that Tony stopped you? What would that mean for any future encounters with Clint? You inwardly groaned at the though of how awkward it would all become. Though it hadn't felt like it, you must have been spaced out for some time, as Steve cleared his throat quietly to gain your attention.

"Uh, you okay there, (firstname)?" he asked cautiously.

"Sure! Why wouldn't I be?" you said a little quickly, shrugging your shoulders at an attempt at making your answer more obvious.

"You just kinda.. spaced out there." he commented, the slightest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What? No I- I'm just _super_ focused on this mouse problem." you bluffed, lifting the cable again and peering at it.

"Uh huh." Steve replied, in a skeptic yet amused tone.

You decided against rising to the bait and just sighed quietly, baffled at the predicament of the mouse.

"Have you tried searching for a solution online or anything?" you questioned.

Steve nodded and moved around to the front of the computer while you plugged the mouse back in and joined him after.

"Yeah, I binged it an-" Steve tried.

"You what?" you interrupted, shooting Steve a puzzled look.

"I binged it." Steve repeated, looking at you with some confusion.

"You know, I used the Bing website to look for an answer. Don't people say 'googled' when they use Google?" he continued, beginning to look somewhat uncertain.

"Well, yeah." you confirmed.

"But.. I mean, nobody really says "I  _binged_ it." " you said, fighting to not sound condescending as you suppressed a smile.

"Well.." Steve muttered, his face dying a slight red as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Can you just help me with the mouse? Please?"

You nodded and moved closer to the computer, bringing up the computer's own search tool and opening up the mouse settings. You highly doubted there would be any such thing in there, but now that you had made a little fun of Steve for what he said, you felt obliged to at least _act_ like you knew what you were doing. You were reading through all of the different options slowly, leaning slightly over the desk, when Steve surprised you by leaning beside you, with his furthermost arm supporting him against the desk. He stared at the screen in concentration, seemingly unaware of how a small part of his abdomen was brushing against your hip.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked, the slightest smell of coffee on his breath as he spoke.

"I'm trying to see if there's like a setting or something." you replied, doing your best not to look put off by your situation.

"Oh, Stark already checked the settings. He said there's nothing there." Steve stated.

"Well, couldn't he find another way to fix it? I mean, he's Tony Stark." you offered, looking up at Steve.

"He told me it's hopele-" Steve stopped himself, staring at the screen with a blank face.

"What? What is it?" you asked.

"Stark told me it couldn't be fixed. And like you said, he _is_ Tony Stark. The one who owns the building and has access to every room in it." Steve said, his voice near monotone.

"What?" you repeated, not understanding.

"He's been taking it out when I'm not here." Steve sighed, staring at the screen with some annoyance.

You scoffed and raised your eyebrows at Steve.

"Would he really do that? Why?" you wondered.

"Oh, he would. As for why, well. Stark isn't really one to act his age." Steve answered.

You suppressed a comment about the irony of what Steve had just said, instead just keeping a light smile on your face.

"Well, thanks for your help anyway, (firstname)." Steve said, looking down at you.

"No problem." you answered, managing to extricate yourself from your position without too much awkwardness.

"And hey, if you ever need any more help, don't be afraid to ask." you finished, offering a smile.

Steve nodded and turned to face you before folding his arms.

"I will, (firstname). You too. I mean, if you want to know something about the team or anything."

You gave a nod of your own in gratitude.

"Sure thing, Steve."

You gave a small wave and turned to head for the door, with Steve seeming to opt for staying in his room. Once outside, you cast a wary glance in the direction of the living room. going back to Clint would be awkward enough, but with Tony surely hanging around it just wasn't a scenario you were up to facing. Instead, you turned and made way to your own room, stepping in and immediately heading for your bed. There, with your privacy, you thought over what happened with Clint again. It certainly felt right at the time, but looking back on it now, you weren't sure at all what to make of it. With much to think about, you pulled your legs up onto the bed and rested your back against the wall, victim to your own rampant thoughts.

At this pace, you weren't sure you'd ever end up being comfortable around The Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I would say keep your eye out for an update next week, but at this rate, what's the use?  
> If you liked the interaction with Steve just there, maybe you should keep your eyes out for the next day or two. Who knows?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it pretentious to act like this is a type of Christmas gift? Probably.

You started, eyes darting around the room as you broke out of sleep. You hadn't even realized it was happening before it already had, but you had managed to fall under as you leaned against the wall in thought. You supposed it hadn't been very long, as your position barely shifted from the way you had sat down. With the thought of it on your mind, you came to realize the only rest you had had lately was done unwillingly and at the most random of times. Clearly your body was trying to tell you that you needed a little more.

You shifted yourself off of the bed and made way to your numerous boxes along the walls. With a heavy heart you tried to guess which one your nightwear would be in, and just as you picked a target, you noticed that atop one of the already open boxes lay folded nightwear already. You didn't specifically remember throwing aside pyjamas during your last rifling through, though at that moment you were less concerned with how they got there as you were with how you were going to get them on. You grasped them with your good hand and involuntarily began thinking about Clint again as you stared down at them. Earlier when you had been forced to ask for his help getting dressed, there was almost nothing save embarrassment in you. This time however, when you thought on it, a wild new flurry of sensations came to mind. The feeling of Clint touching you as he helped you shimmy on your bra was something you had barely registered the first time, but now it was one of the foremost thoughts in your mind. Your eyes closed to better allow you to dwell on the feeling of his own rough fingers brushing your skin, though each time you thought you had remembered it just right the feeling receded and left you wanting more. Even the feeling of his hand pressed into yours during your little competition earlier was one that you just couldn't perfect in your mind. Your hand clenched at your attempts, as if there was a chance that his own would be there too, though the smooth feel of your nightwear brought you back to reality and the task at hand.

With a wistful sigh you managed to pry your shoes off using your feet and kick them gracelessly to the side before heading to the bathroom. Once inside you looked to the mirror with a pained sigh and tried to plan how you were going to get your t-shirt off in a reasonable fashion. Thankfully, your shoulder had barely caused you any pain all day, and you held onto the hope that it was healing quickly. After some mental preparation, you managed to undo your trousers with relative ease, kicking your legs about fervently to get the last leg out and sending the clothing hurtling across the room. You set to work on your t-shirt, getting your hand and forearm through the hole with surprising ease, but that was when the difficulty came. With your elbow protruding from the arm hole, you flailed it in a semi co-ordinated fashion until at last you managed to wriggle your arm free. From there, it was simple enough to stretch the t-shirt over, even if you _did_ think you heard a few threads tear here and there.

To your immense gratitude, you had a preference for nightwear tops that could be buttoned up, and even in spite of your brace, it was infinitely easier than pulling on a t-shirt. You finished by pulling on the bottoms and taking a look in the mirror. Your hair had become disheveled in the struggle, and after a few moments of futilely struggling to smooth it with your hand, you relented and left the bathroom. After raising your hand to your mouth in a yawn, you snatched your hairbrush up and began brushing through it again. It was going to get messed up when you slept anyway, but you may as well try to lessen the blow by brushing it beforehand. Once done, you placed the brush on your nightstand and switched off the lights before climbing under the sheets, laying on your back. Now that there was nothing else on your mind, the same thoughts of Clint from earlier made a reappearance. Though they pleased you somewhat, you would have preferred sleep, and you tried to banish them from your mind. They would not be silenced, however, and toss and turn as you might despite your brace, your mind was in too much torment for any sleep. You sat back up with a frustrated groan and wiped your good hand across your face. The only other means of becoming tired you could think of was reading a good book for a while to place your thoughts elsewhere. You climbed back out of bed and switched the lights back on, looking back to the collection of boxes at the wall. Though you couldn't sleep, your body still became sluggish after lying in darkness for a time, and you just could not summon the willpower to search through them. Surely one of the others must have a book you could borrow for a night.

You turned to the door and stopped, looking over yourself. Surely nobody would care if you were in your nightwear? True, you had been part of the team for little over a day, but you couldn't imagine it being an issue. Abandoning your cautions to the wind, you stepped out and looked up and down the hallway before deciding to head for Steve's room first. After all, he _had_ said to come to him if you needed anything.

Right as you went to pass the elevator, with Steve's room in sight, the doors came open and you looked with an eyebrow perked to see Natasha stepping out of the elevator. For someone who had just been on a mission, she looked entirely unscathed, though you couldn't decide whether it was down to her skills or perhaps a little lying going on.  Ultimately the question went unanswered when Natasha approached you.

"Interesting choice of attire." she commented, her voice sarcastic as a playful smirk graced her flawless features.

"Oh-ye- I just-" you stammered, smiling and laughing through your words as you looked down at yourself. Though you knew she wasn't scolding you, it still felt a tad embarrassing to explain.

"It's okay." she answered, still smirking.

"Believe me, I've seen Stark in his underwear before, I can handle _anything._ "

You laughed, sweeping a piece of hair aside that had gone astray when you looked down. You considered asking about her mission, though something told you that wasn't really something one was supposed to do.

"So what's up, can't sleep?" Natasha continued, looking you up and down as if assessing you somewhat.

"It's not that late."

"Yeah, I know,  but everything that's happened lately just has me _exhausted_." you explained, giving a wry smirk after.

"Ah, so you're looking for something to read, I presume?" she asked.

You frowned in wonder for a brief moment before smiling at her. Was she really that good at reading people?

"Yeah, how'd you know?" you asked.

"I'm the same. A good book always puts me under eventually." she responded.

"And I'd love to give you one, but I've got some business that needs attending to."

You nodded, waving your hand nonchalantly.

"Hey, no problem. I was just going to go ask Steve anyway." you assured.

"Oh, I think Rogers is busy too. He seemed in a rush but when I asked him what was up he just grumbled something about Stark and computers." she said.

You smiled to yourself and nodded, remembering the events from earlier.

"Besides, unless all you like to read is books about everything that's happened since the 1940s, Rogers wouldn't be much of a help."

You laughed lightly again, nodding in understanding. Natasha, despite the cold demeanor she always seemed to keep, actually seemed quite friendly, and funny too.

"I'm pretty sure Clint has quite a selection of books himself." she continued.

At the mention of his name, your heart twitched heavily, and though you barely felt anything in your face, Natasha still seemed to pick up on it, a near menacing glint flashing in her gaze.

"Just don't ask about The Hunger Games books. He gets annoyed."

Though you didn't entirely understand what she meant, you managed a smile regardless through this newfound worry in you. Whether she knew the full story or not, Natasha had definitely picked up on something back there. Would she act on it?

"See you around." she called, tapping your forearm lightly as she walked past. It may have been your imagination, but you could have sworn she winked as she did so.

You sighed quietly, not daring to look back at her. How typical that at a time like this Clint would be the only person you could talk to. Ultimately, you decided against the whole thing, and decided instead to just struggle in bed until you fell asleep. You waited until you thought Natasha would be a fair distance away, and turned back towards your room. After coming a few steps closer to it, however, a new thought barged its way into your mind, stopping you in your tracks. You were a part of the Avengers now, and that meant you were part of the same team as Clint. Sooner or later, you would have to talk to him, and you knew from experience that situations like these only grew more awkward and unbearable the longer they were ignored. Yes, having only Clint around was annoying and unlucky in terms of wanting to relax, but on the other hand, you weren't sure at all how many times you would get this chance, and this might be the best opportunity to talk through what had happened with him. You sighed again, attempting to mentally prepare yourself before turning around. It dawned on you that Steve's room was the only one you knew the location of,  and you chewed the inside of you cheek absently as you thought on it. You hadn't any idea how long you had slept for, but Natasha had said it was still early, so perhaps Clint was still in the living room. Steve might also have been berating Tony there, but for the moment you couldn't decide which scenario you would have preferred.

You began to make way for the living room, listening to your breathing becoming louder with each second, but managing to keep yourself relatively calm. Approaching the room, you heard the television going, with advertisements sounding out to fill the air. with one last breath, you turned the corner into the room, only to find it empty. An attack of emotion that felt like a mix of disappointment and relief came over you, and you strolled in slowly, absently staring at the TV. You momentarily considered going to find Clint, though the thought was quickly banished as you feared looking desperate. You turned to leave and flinched when you found Clint staring at you from the end of the hallway.

"Clint! Hi! I-I was just..." you stammered, your surprise completely over-riding your thoughts,

"I was just looking for..." you continued, looking down at the couch and coffee table in a panic. In the deepest recesses of your mind, you knew acting so panicked was silly and unnecessary, but you just couldn't bring yourself to calm now, especially after you had already started.

You scooped up the closest item, a thin book of sorts, and clutched it so tightly it bent and folded under your grip.

"This! Found it!" you exclaimed, plastering a smile on your face as you stared at a slightly shocked looking Clint.

There was an unsettling silence that you barely managed to force your way through with your smile still lasting. Understandably, Clint's expression remained too.

"You, uh... you were looking for that?" Clint asked, uncertainty and confusion dripping from his voice.

"Yeah, of course. I _love_ -" you began, looking down to the TV instruction manual that was now in your hand.

"In-instruction manuals." you finished quietly, cursing your luck mentally.

"Well, as fun as _that_ sounds," Clint started, walking toward the couch as he spoke.

"I'm waiting for a movie to start if you maybe... if you wanna watch with me." he offered, though he didn't make eye contact with you when he spoke.

"I dunno what it is yet, forgot to check before I left, but a movie's a movie, right?"

It was both confounding and embarrassing how calm Clint was given the situation, especially so when placed in comparison with you, though for the moment you considered for the best. as for watching a movie, you looked back to the TV in thought. You had wanted to speak with Clint about what had happened earlier, though he almost seemed like he had forgotten it. Perhaps sitting down to watch something with him would make things less awkward between the two of you, and you certainly didn't want it to seem as though you were upset with him. If nothing else, watching a movie would surely make you feel tired by the end of it.

"I've got pizza." Clint sang playfully, lifting up a pizza box and swaying it lightly. In your previous shock you hadn't even noticed it.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes, his attitude lifting your spirits.

"Well, if you have _pizza_ , how can I resist?" you asked coyly, stepping forward to the couch and sinking down on it.

At your actions, Clint smiled while clearing his throat quietly and looking down to the box.

"Hope y- Uh, hope you like pepperoni." he said, placing the box on the coffee table.

"Fine with me." you answered, looking to the screen as Clint fell heavily into seat beside you on the couch, causing you to bounce slightly.

As he looked on, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He looked so casual and relaxed, and you wondered if he felt as embarrassed as you did. Being a trained agent, you supposed he was used to hiding his emotions, but still, you expected _something_. You ended up staring longer than you had meant to, running your gaze along his jawline and up his face until you came to his dark brown hair.

"Hey, The Little Rascals!" he exclaimed joyously as it was announced on the TV, leaning back and stretching his arms across the back of the sofa. This time he seemed to rest them slightly lower, probably to avoid a repeat of previous events.

You finally tore your eyes from him and back to the screen, unable to suppress a smile. Seeing a grown man whom worked for an agency like S.H.I.E.L.D. and worked closely with assassin supreme Black Widow get excited over a movie like The Little Rascals was as cute as it was surprising.

There was a silence as you both waited for the commercials to end, and though this time you managed to keep your eyes on the screen, you thought you could feel Clint stealing glances at _you_ this time. Just when it had happened enough times to make you feel uncomfortable he spoke up.

"Hey, uh, you know.." he began, shifting closer to you. You froze for a moment, not knowing what to expect until his hands came to your brace.

"You could probably take this off. I saw your x-ray, it wasn't so bad. They always give you extra waiting time to be sure, but as long as you don't go assaulting more doors I'm sure you'll be fine."

You were unsure what to say as Clint carefully undid the latches and helped you slide the brace off of your arm. In all honesty, you thought listening to what medical professionals recommended was for the best, but still you allowed him to remove it, partially so that you might feel his touch again. He seemed to remove it slower than necessary, staring at your arm blankly as he did so. Even after the brace was tossed to the side, he stared at your arm still. Normally something that would creep you out, now it only gave way to a pleasant feeling in your chest. All too soon Clint shook his head quickly as if to clear his thoughts and snapped his gaze rigidly back to the TV.

You cleared your throat, embarrassed at letting the moment get to you. You looked back to the TV and rubbed your now free arm gently, still wary about actually moving it.

"Thanks." you said, though your voice was much quieter than you had intended.

"No problem." Clint replied brusquely.

At last the movie began, and you gave a quiet sigh of relief as the pair of you were provided with something new to focus on. The atmosphere lightened considerably as time passed, and after a while Clint spoke up between mouthfuls of pizza.

"Uh, (firstname), do you-do you think you could turn it up a little?"

You nodded and moved your hand toward the coffee table for the remote, wondering why he didn't just do it himself, only to find no remote there. You looked around curiously, your eyebrows raised.

"It's.. uh..." Clint continued. When you looked to him, he motioned behind him with his thumb.

You swiveled your head around to find the remote wedged snugly between your behind and the couch cushions.  With embarrassment levels skyrocketing within you, you lifted it out and turned up the volume before placing the remote on the coffee table. Upon leaning back again, you were grateful that there was a movie to watch so that Clint couldn't see your face go as red as you felt it.

"Thanks." Clint said.

"I didn't wanna reach for it, cuz... well. Y'know. Didn't wanna accidentally grab your ass or anything."

You nodded, more embarrassed than before and wanting it to be done with, though Clint's head turned to you with his eyes slightly widened.

"Not that-not that I wouldn't _like_ that b- I mean- It's not that I- You have a very _nice_ \- Hey look, a movie." Clint ended his butchered attempt at an apology by turning back to the TV.

In spite of your own embarrassment, you found yourself smiling at his behaviour. The facade he managed earlier had just come crashing down in a matter of seconds, and it felt comforting to know that you weren't the only one who felt that way. After all, surely he wouldn't have made such a spectacle of it he wasn't nervous about the topic? You tried to focus back on the movie, but with this revelation the feelings that had plagued you earlier came back full force, and you felt obliged to act on them in _some_ form. After what had just happened, having a regular talk was an idea that had flown straight out of the window, and you tried to think of another way to show that the feelings you hoped were real were reciprocated. You stole glances at Clint again, seeing that he had gone back to his relaxed position with his arms spread out, though even you could tell that he was anything but. You took a quiet breath, weighing in your head about what you wanted to do next. Even though you were fairly certain that these feelings were mutual, it could be a disaster if you tried to act on them and it turned out that it wasn't true. But at the same time, if they _were_ real and neither of you acted on them, it would be an opportunity wasted. Though you might not have known him very well, Clint was certainly a lot less boring than your last boyfriend, and it seemed that he had a good sense of humour going. Your mind switched between the two choices wildly as you tried to decide before the moment ended.

Ultimately, you steeled yourself and decided to just take the chance. You adjusted yourself, nerves increasing with each movement you made, and finally, with some hesitation, you closed your eyes and slowly let yourself come to lean against Clint, your shoulder resting on the edge of his chest. You bit your tongue as you felt him tense up, nearly expecting him to push you back off and give out to you, but after a few moments his arm came from the back of the couch, encasing you and gently nudging you into him more. Relief and excitement combined, blazing through your body and giving you chills as you felt his chest rise and fall with each breath.  Each time he laughed at the movie, he squeezed you a little, and though you weren't sure if it was intentional, it felt wonderful.

Unfortunately, the movie had to come to an end eventually, and by the time it did, you were fighting hard to keep your eyes open, not wanting anything about it to end.

"(Firstname)?" Clint said softly, rubbing your arm gently.

"Hm? What?" you drawled, too tired to be embarrassed about how you were talking.

"You should get to bed. You're exhausted." he replied.

"No, no... I can wait till the movie's over.." you stated, shaking your head lethargically into his chest.

"It's been over for ten minutes." he answered, a smile in his voice.

"Oh, really? Alright then, let's go." you agreed, managing to uncurl your legs and straighten yourself up despite your complete lack of energy.

You forced yourself up, rubbing your eyes harshly in an attempt to wake up enough to make it back to your room. Soon deeming it useless, you took a step forward and barely managed to not collapse when your leg collided with the end of the sofa.

"Stupid couch." you murmured, guiding yourself past it with your hands.

"Need some help?" Clint asked from back at the TV.

"No, I got it." you answered, not able to summon the energy to shake your head.

When you stumbled over your own feet and just managed not to come to your knees, you heard Clint snort behind you.

"Yeah, totally looks like it."

Without the focus or energy to argue, you continued your quest, making it to the corner of the hallway and stopping to rub your eyes again. Without warning, a force struck your legs and you shrieked, but before you could hit the ground something supported your back, with something else came just above your knees, lifting you again. After prolonged confusion, you finally realized that Clint was carrying you when you found him looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You began to bob up and down lightly as Clint began walking down the hallway, leaving you to lazily wrap your arms around his neck for safety.

"Did you kick my legs out from under me?" you asked, finding it impossible to sound demanding in your state.

"Who, me? Of course not. You just fell. And I caught you. You're welcome, by the way." he answered, his face never changing from innocence as he looked ahead.

"I _felt_ your leg hit me." you insisted, making your best attempt at a glare.

"Uh, nope. Wasn't me. You must have kicked yourself and forgotten."

"You know, I'm in a great position to wring out your neck right now." you threatened, squeezing slightly to emphasise your point.

"What a coincidence, _I'm_ in a position to drop you on your ass." he retorted.

Before you could argue further, the door to your room opened and Clint stepped in. He went straight for your bed, and even in your state you could sense something childish coming.

Clint raised you slightly higher before dropping you on the bed, though taking care not to make you land on your bad shoulder.

"And he drops her off the rope! The crowd goes wild!" he exclaimed, making screaming noises under his breath before flexing his muscles with exaggerated gusto.

Though your eyes were half shut, you made your best attempt at a withering glare until Clint settled down and threw himself into seating beside you on the bed.

"Really though, you should get some sleep. You look terrible." he said in a matter of fact tone, though his serious expression broke into a smirk when you looked to him.

"There are so many things that you are lucky I don't have the energy to say right now." you said, yawning after.

"Well then get some sleep already." he chided, standing up from the bed.

Faster than you realized you could move in that state, you clutched his hand and looked up at him. The feeling of being so close to him as you had during the movie was so incredible that it left you wanting more, and though what you were doing may have seemed desperate, you were simply too tired to care.

"You can stay here if you want." you stated, trying not to sound like you were begging, though ultimately you couldn't tell how it sounded.

Clint stared down at you, seemingly lost deep in thought for a while before he blinked again and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, well I guess _someone_ has to make sure you don't roll out of bed onto your bad arm, right?" he asked, taking off his shoes.

"Yeah. That's why." you answered, smiling as you managed to pull the covers over you.

Your eyes widened more than you could have done voluntarily when Clint pulled off his t-shirt and began undoing his belt.

"Woah! What are you doing?" you asked, bolting upright and frowning at him in confusion.

"Well, I'm not gonna sleep in my day clothes." he answered, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Well, then go get your pyjamas!" you exclaimed.

"Pyjamas? I'm not 10, (firstname)." Clint responded.

" _Real_ men sleep in their underwear." he claimed, finally undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans to reveal a pair of dark boxers.

"Oh my God!" you groaned, turning your head away. Being with Clint so far had made you extremely happy, but you were pretty sure you weren't ready for that stage just yet. Still, you had gotten a brief look after the trousers had come off. It certainly wasn't a body that deserved to be shamed as you were doing.

"Hey, you invited me." Clint stated matter of factly, hopping under the covers and shimmying himself into comfort.

"Yeah, to _sleep_ not to- Ugh, I'm too tired for this." you whined, turning over and shutting your eyes.

"Can't help it if I'm hot." Clint murmured, turning the opposite direction.

"Clint, be quiet or God help me." you growled.

There was a response, but it was lost to you as long awaited sleep came at last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Hope you liked the chapter! Sorry if I went from not knowing what to say to Clint to being unreasonably comfortable with him too fast, I tend to do that with all of my love interests.
> 
> And also I know taking the brace off already is dumb but it's like 6 in the morning and I haven't slept and i'm honestly just getting sick of having to write around it and whatnot so sue me ok bye
> 
> and also there's probably typos and words that don't make sense all over the place because i'm almost as tired as I wrote you to be but I had to finish this chapter 'today' because it's like 40 years overdue so don't be afraid to tell me when you see a mistake
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> WOW THAT NOTE AT THE END IN BRACKETS WAS TO HELP ME REMEMBER WHAT TO WRITE I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO TAKE IT OUT THAT'S SO EMBARRASSING.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww ye, fastest update in like 6 months whaaaat

You awoke, immediately relishing how much more awake you felt since last night. You squeezed the covers closer briefly in comfort before sighing and rolling onto your back. Right away thoughts of last night came to your mind, giving way to a rising feeling of warmth in your chest that left you smiling. As you brushed some morning hair from your face, your elbow bumped skin and you flinched slightly.  You turned your head and looked to Clint, almost having forgotten he was there. You tried to quieten your breathing as much as possible as you looked to him, hoping not to disturb or wake him. For someone who acted so childish and held the job that he did, he looked incredibly peaceful when he slept. Though it inexplicably made you feel a little ashamed, you couldn't help checking him out a little from where you lay. Unlike last night, you felt no need to disguise that you were staring at him, and you found it much easier to get a good look at his features in spite of the semi darkness. Even with half of it being flattened against a pillow, you could appreciate his light stubble covering his clean, though roughed skin. Even his dark hair, tangled and ruffled as it was, only added to the appeal of his features. He began to shuffle, and you switched your gaze back to the ceiling, not wanting him to have him wake up to you staring him down from where you lay. For two people who were in a more committed relationship, you might have considered it okay, though at the moment you weren't entirely sure what to call what you and Clint had. You liked him, sure, and it seemed that he may have liked you too, but you had only spent one night in close contact with each other. You couldn't guess if it was for real just yet, even if you wanted it to be.

You took another glance at Clint, and found that his eyes weren't open yet. Perhaps he hadn't woken up at all and was just moving in his sleep. You smiled to yourself and slowly rose from bed, moving until you sat on the edge with your feet on the floor. You rubbed your bad shoulder lightly, thankful for the lack of any pain. Maybe Clint had been right about taking it off, but nonetheless you knew not to put too much strain on it. You stood and stretched out, grunting with satisfaction as your body loosened up. You snatched your hairbrush from your nightstand and brushed through it absently as you moved over to your boxes in search of a new set of clothes. You tossed the brush back behind you haphazardly and barely managed to open the box before Clint's voice made you turn.

"Ow!" Clint exclaimed, holding a hand over his right eye and looking down at the brush on the bed in confusion. You watched him staring at it in utter confoundment for a while before switching to the empty space beside him and finally up to you.

"What the hell? Did you throw that?" he asked, rubbing the eye as he looked to you accusingly.

"No. I mean, yeah, but I didn't mean to throw itat _you_." you answered, scratching your neck in embarrassment. Probably should have been more careful about how you threw it.

"Oh, you didn't mean to? Well _now_ it doesn't hurt. Thanks, (firstname)." he replied crabbily, lowering his hand and blinking his eyes a few times.

Rather than keep it going, you relented and began looking through the box again, pulling out a new t-shirt, bra, and underwear. When a continued search for trousers turned sour, you grunted and looked to the bathroom, that still contained yesterday's jeans. You hadn't gotten them dirty, so surely wearing them again today wouldn't be so bad. Finalizing your decision, you made a mental note to make _some_ attempt to sort out all of these boxes sooner rather than later.

You collected your clothes, closing the box over again before turning to the bathroom. When you found Clint halfway to it with his own clothes in hand you froze. You hadn't expected to have anyone over yesterday, and in your tiredness you had left the clothing you were wearing on the floor, including your underwear. As if having them there weren't mortifying enough, you were certain Clint would make a big deal out of it too.

"Hey!" you called, marching towards him hurriedly and snatching as many towels as you could in your haste as you went.

"What are you doing?"

Clint turned to you with a face of some confusion.

"Uh, I was gonna have a shower, but.." he said slowly, eyeing you for your strange demeanor.

"Towels are in the boxes there!" you answered with a little too much enthusiasm, pointing over to the pile of boxes.

"Right." Clint said, nodding before he starting walking over.

Once he was a fair distance away, you hopped into the bathroom and shut the door just in time to see Clint's head snap around to you in surprise. Once it was shut you heard his footsteps advancing to your door.

"Not cool, (firstname)." he berated.

"First you assault me with a hairbrush and now this? I'm starting to reconsider trusting you."

Despite your slight panic, you couldn't help but smile at him. No matter the situation he never seemed to get too serious about it.

"Sorry." you called through.

"I just- I _really_ needed to get here first."

A silence formed, and you turned to get ready for your shower when Clint's voice called out.

"So, that time of the month, huh?" he asked in an all-knowing fashion.

You stopped and turned to the door again, staring in disbelief. In fairness, you probably shouldn't have been surprised.

"Really, Clint? Really?" you asked, shaking your head and beginning to undo your nightwear.

"No need to be ashamed, (firstname). It's natural. Every woman goes through it." he responded.

You shook your head, pulling off the last bits of clothing before hopping into the shower and switching it on. Finding it considerably quicker and easier to wash yourself without a cramped up arm, you washed your entire body with ease and stepped back out, laying out a towel to step on and wrapping your hair in one before drying your body. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you patted your face dry before letting own your hair again and rubbing it gently with the towel.

"Hey, (firstname)? I was planning to leave _this_ week so.." Clint called through the door.

"Shut up." you called back, though you did pick up the pace as you pulled on your clothes.

You wrapped up your old pairs of underwear in the dirty towels, intending to conceal them, and turned to the door but stopped with your hand hovering over the handle. With Clint in mind, you turned back to the mirror and looked yourself over. After thinking for a moment, you shifted your hair until you thought it could look as nice as it could without being brushed. If you wanted last night to develop into anything more, it was probably in your interest to make yourself look appealing.

You loosed a breath and turned back to the door, stepping out and heading for your bed.

"Finally." Clint sighed melodramatically, turning from your boxes that he had evidently rummaged in thoroughly.

"What are you doing with my stuff?" you asked, dropping the bundle of items on your bed and stepping over as Clint headed for the bathroom with towels and clothes in hand.

"Spying on you for S.H.I.E.L.D." he answered plainly.

"Not funny." you called after him as he closed the bathroom door.

You knew he was joking, but still you peered into the box he had been at. Even if he had been telling the truth, it wasn't anything personal at all. In fact, it seemed like the people whom had packed this box just threw in everything from your old bathroom. You pulled out a can of deodorant and used it on yourself, thankful for Clint's convenient box choice. You placed it back in and noticed the top of a small bottle buried inside containing a pink liquid. After digging it out, you recognized it as a perfume your last boyfriend had bought you for your birthday a few years ago. You had only used it once or twice when you were with him, though not because it was bad or you didn't like perfume. You just didn't have occasion to use it in your old line of work at all. It was a miracle that it hadn't been broken in its travels, and for now, a blessing.  You opened it up and spritzed it around your wrists and neck, hoping it wouldn't make it seem as if you were trying too hard. After closing it and throwing it back in, you looked back to the heap of towels and clothes on your bed. After a moment of thinking, you emptied the box of bathroom items onto your bed and chucked the other things in. For the moment, it would do as a kind of small clothes hamper.

You threw the box into the corner of your room and lined up the bathroom necessities on your nightstand before picking up your hairbrush. You looked down to it, thinking of Clint and laughing to yourself before running it through repeatedly. Again you tried to style it as nicely as you could without having any other equipment for it. Once satisfied with the result, you stood and made the bed, staring briefly at where Clint had been. Right on cue, you heard Clint begin to belt out some song you didn't recognize, but by the sound of him, you could imagine it was accompanied by an air guitar.  You rolled your eyes with a smile and moved to grab some socks from one of the boxes before pulling them on. For the way he had acted, Clint was actually taking quite a bit of time in the shower himself. You passed the time by thinking on the kind of things you thought S.H.I.E.L.D. would have you doing. For the moment, they seemed to be giving you a break, likely because of your shoulder, but sooner or later they would have to give you _something_. Perhaps it would be the same kind of jobs you had always done, but for the good guys. If that was the case, you weren't sure whether to be let down or excited. It would be a little disappointing if the only thing changing was the side you played for, though at the same time, at least you already knew how to do that.

In your thought, you had stopped listening to Clint, and when the door opened you turned with your eyes widened in surprise. he stepped out in his clothes from yesterday, surveying the room for a moment before walking in front of you and inspecting your nightstand.

"Oh, sweet." he said, grabbing up your deodorant and using it as you sat there lamely.

"A woman who doesn't buy all that rose scented crap. I like it."

"Yes, Clint. You may use my deodorant." you answered flatly, looking up at him. You hoped what he had said didn't mean he wouldn't like the perfume you had put on.

"Thanks." he responded, slapping a hand onto your head and ruffling your hair.

"Stop doing that!" you demanded, fixing it again.

"Why? Messy hair is sexy." Clint answered, shrugging.

"I'll keep that in mind." you said, standing up and moving for your shoes.

You pulled them on before doing the same with your jacket and pulling your hair back out around your shoulders.

"Hey, you busy today?" Clint asked from behind you.

"No, I don't really have anything planned." you stated, adjusting your jacket.

"Well, I gotta get down to HQ and train a bit, you wanna come with?" he replied.

"Yeah, sounds good." you accepted. Another chance to have a look at the headquarters, _and_ to see who Natasha claimed as ' _the best archer out there_ ' in action.

You turned and began to head for door, heading past Clint while he seemed to watch you closely.

"Oh, by the way." Clint called, grabbing your waist and turning you to him.

His lips crashed to yours so quickly that for a moment you couldn't even register what was going on, with your face frozen in shock. After you realized and relaxed, however, it turned into pure bliss. With his warm lips pressed into yours, and his hands sliding over your hips, your chest was sent ablaze with passion and excitement. You could feel his stubble scratching your skin, and your lungs began to ask for air, but you barely registered either through all of your focus on everything else. Then all too suddenly Clint pulled his head back and the kiss ended with his hands still around your waist.

"You still owed me that from yesterday."

Not knowing what to say with your shock and excitement, you just laughed shakily and nodded your head, already replaying the moment in your head.

Clint looked you up and down, holding onto you for a few more moments before letting you go. For all the romantic spontaneity he had shown, he seemed to recede back to himself quickly, leaving a silence to form as you stood there blushing and trying to think of what to say.

"Well... let's go." he suggested, jerking his head to the side before heading to the door.

You nodded silently, unable to keep the blush from your face as you grinned giddily while you followed him out. Once you were out, you nearly bumped into him, stopped just outside the door. You stepped to the side, intending to ask what was wrong. You understood when you found Natasha standing opposite him with a smirk on her face.

"Well, well. Two agents leaving the same bedroom together?" she stated slyly, switching her gaze between the both of you and perking her eyebrows ever so slightly.

"Just showing (firstname) some things." Clint stated. You weren't sure if he was genuinely trying to hide it or just joking with her.

"Oh? Must have been showing her some pretty private things for her to blush like that." Natasha retorted, her cute smirk only growing more.

You hadn't thought it possible, but you felt as though you only blushed more after the comment.

"I-I...." you stammered, totally unsure how to respond.

"Blushing? Nah, I was just showing her to act. You know, for disguises and stuff." Clint answered, an though he tried to keep a serious expression, you could hear the smile creeping into his voice.

The two stared at each other for a few moments before Natasha laughed softly.

"So, what happened to your brace, (firstname)?" she asked, nodding her head to your arm.

"Cli-Clint told me to take it off." you said quickly, glad that you were able to get some words out.

"Taking medical advice from Clint? Good luck with _that_." she quipped.

"Get out of here, redhead." Clint ordered.

"Sure thing, birdbrain." she relented, walking past the two of you.

Clint began to head for the elevator again, and before you could follow, Natasha lightly lay a hand on your arm, causing you to turn your head to her.

"Just something to consider... S.H.I.E.L.D isn't very fond of agents _'showing'_   each other things." she said lowly. Though her voice was serious, her expression didn't seem as though she was trying to threaten you.

"Thanks." you responded, unsure what else to say.

Natasha nodded and gave you a small smile before turning and heading down the hallway. You watched her for a moment before Clint called and you moved quickly into the elevator.

The pair of you both stood in silence, staring at the doors. You weren't sure whether you to bring up what Natasha had said or _anything_ about the two of you, for that matter. If you tried to talk about it, you feared you might seem too eager.

Eventually, the doors pulled open and you followed Clint out to the reception, heading for the door. Once you reached it, Clint pulled it open and stepped to the side to let you go first, turning his head to you with an out of character sweet smile. You eyed him suspiciously but nodded in gratitude, wondering why he was acting so Steve-y. Your question was answered when you felt a pinch on your backside as you passed through. You gasped and whirled to Clint with a smiling glare, while he stepped out innocently looking across the street.

"Uh, do you mind?" you demanded, still smiling up at him.

"Mind what?" he asked, staring at you in faux confusion.

"You pinched my.. my _derrière_." you answered, unable to help a smile at his fooling around.

"Did I? Sorry, my vision's still a little blurry from when you attacked me. With a hairbrush." he claimed, rubbing his eyes in validation.

He started heading for his car before you could respond, and as you followed you noticed it as the same one he had brought you to S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first time. He unlocked it and climbed in the driver's seat while you opened the door on the other side.

"Feels strange to get in of my own free will this time." you joked, stepping in and closing the door behind you.

"Well, if it makes you feel more comfortable I could always drug you again." Clint offered as he pulled out of the parking space.

"You know what? I think I'm good." you laughed.

Clint turned on the radio as he drove and you stared out of the window, taking the silent moment to think over what had happened in your room again.

"Oh, I _love_ this song!" he claimed, blaring the radio as the radio host announced the next song as 'Cherry Bomb' by The Runaways.

 You smiled, turning to him and laughing as he began singing along loudly. After a short while, you joined in, too caught up in the moment to feel embarrassed about the people outside watching the two of you rock around in your seats and wail the lyrics. Once it ended you fell back in your seat, smiling.

"We should totally form a band." Clint stated.

"Definitely." you responded.

"What will be our name?"

Clint seemed to think for a moment before responding.

"How about 'Hawkeye and the blushing newbie'?"

"Not very catchy." you responded, glaring at him good naturedly.

"How about '(Firstname) and the asshole'?"

"Yeah, but you're only supposed to put yourself in once." Clint answered.

You punched his arm and looked back out of your window, still smiling. Even when it was insult based, you had to admit Clint's constant joking was growing on you.

"Well, we're here." he stated after a minute, pulling up beside the building and climbing out.

While he waited outside with his gaze elsewhere, you quickly pulled down the mirror and checked yourself over again. Satisfied, you stepped out and moved over to Clint.

"Hey, by the way, can you maybe not go telling everyone- or maybe anyone, about what happened back at the Tower?" Clint asked suddenly as you neared the building together.

"It's just that S.H.I.E.L.D-"

"I know." you interrupted.

"Natasha told me."

Clint scoffed quietly and nodded his head.

"'Course she did."

He opened the door for you again, and you glared at him in apprehension. Even after saying what he had, you weren't too faithful in him not to repeat earlier events.

"I'm good. You go first." you declared, extending your arm to the doorway in suggestion.

"What? (Firstname) just go through would you? I'm not gonna do anything. Don't make a scene or people are gonna start thinking things." he berated, looking at you with some annoyance.

You immediately felt embarrassed and headed through the door. Perhaps Clint really did want to keep the whole business away from his job. Whether that was true or not, however, didn't seem to matter as you felt a pinch on your behind again.

Your head snapped to Clint, a fresh glare in your gaze, accompanied by a smile. Once again Clint feigned innocence and simply began walking through the offices with you trailing behind him.

You were going to have to think of a way to get revenge for that.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry guys but I'm back to school soon so there's no chance I'm going to continue updating at anywhere near this speed. I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meantime! (Though you might not it's kind of boring.)

Clint led you past the numerous people at their desks, clacking away at keyboards. As you passed, you tried to snatch a few glances at their work, but even the ones you managed to see appeared to only be editing one document or another. In honesty you didn't know what else to expect, but it was still a little disappointing. As Clint walked through the door to the long hallway, you wondered what it would be like to work like those people. Were they content in their jobs, knowing that there was so much action going on in other sections? Perhaps they had to go through time at a desk before they could graduate to full agents. Your thought was stopped when Clint slowed down to walk beside you and spoke up.

"Why are you so interested in them?" he asked, his gaze still ahead as you walked down the hallway.

"Who?" you asked, a little taken aback by the sudden question.

"The desk workers. First time we came here you asked me about them and now you're practically crawling over their shoulders to look at their work." he responded, sounding genuinely curious.

"I wasn't  _that_ interested." you defended. You had no idea why, but having Clint tell you that you were so interested annoyed you. Probably just being childish.

"Please. You looked like you were scavenging for food." he replied.

You frowned slightly, feeling some embarrassment on the rise. Had you really been that obvious about your interest that Clint wasn't even looking at you and he could tell?

"So, you didn't answer my question." he insisted.

You looked to him with a tinge of annoyance as you thought on the answer. He was really being quite pushy for such a small matter.

"I just think it's cool seeing all these people working together for one goal." you answered, somewhat quietly. Out loud, it sounded a little dumb.

Clint led you to the right once you reached the end of the first hallway, and you followed him down a myriad of other paths as you spoke.

"I guess you didn't have much of that before?" he asked. His voice seemed solemn, almost concerned.

"Not at all, really." you confirmed, shaking your head.

"The most I saw of it was a bunch of thugs following one leader, which isn't really the same."

"How so?" Clint wondered, nudging your shoulder to get you to take another turn.

"All of the people here are committed to justice, and that's the object of their work, the thing they want to achieve. Working towards an ultimate goal like that is different to just following whatever your boss feels like doing on a certain day." you explained, shrugging lightly at the end.

Clint only gave a grunt of acknowledgement while he led you into a massive room. Various equipment for workouts lay strewn around the room, though they were far out of the way of the practice targets that lay against the far wall. Just how big was this headquarters?

"Just wait in here a sec while I go get my stuff." Clint ordered, walking back out after you nodded.

You turned and looked across the room again, curious. Having a whole training room dedicated to a single agent seemed a bit superfluous, though you supposed it wasn't really your place to question such things. After a few moments of simply standing there, you strolled over to the workout equipment and traced a finger over a bench press rack. You hadn't ever used one before, never really believing it necessary for your work. What you did relied more on skill and speed than sheer power, so flexibility exercises and improving your speed were the kind of workouts more suited to you. Dismissing the equipment, you moved instead over to the targets. They seemed new, resting on their target holders without a single mark that you could see. If Clint was really as good as Natasha claimed, he probably needed new targets all the time. With your mind on him, you noticed he had been gone for some time at this point.

You looked back to the door, curious. Surely he didn't keep his things all that far away from his training room? You considered it, eyes widening and your body freezing up when a new thought dawned on you: Were they going to test you again? Instantly, paranoia set in, and you swept over every inch of the room with your gaze, checking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Whatever it was going to be, you hoped that it wouldn't involve messing up your shoulder all over again. You half jogged to the door, cursing yourself for letting Clint bring you back before you were fully healed. With a quick breath of self assurance, you stepped out, looking down both ways of the hallway before starting to walk back the way you came. You had only gotten four or five steps before a voice interrupted you.

"(Firstname)?" Clint called, his voice laden with concern.

"You.. you off somewhere?"

You turned around, your cheeks instantly flaring up with embarrassment. Maybe Clint had genuinely just taken a while, after all. He stood in the same outfit he wore the first time you saw him from the elevator in the Tower, a large duffel bag in hand. It was slightly off putting, being that the only times you had seen him with the outfit so far was back when you disliked him.

"No!" you answered, putting on an excited voice for reasons unknown to you.

"I was just looking around until you came back, but you're back now, so.."

You nodded and moved past a confused looking Clint back into his training room, turning to look at him once he followed. Your embarrassment at your assumption was still burning in you, though you felt like you were making good work of concealing it.

 "Something up, (firstname)?" Clint asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shook your head with a little too much enthusiasm before answering.

"Nope, I was-" you tried.

"We both know you weren't looking around." Clint cut off.

His expression was a little more serious than you were used to at this point, but before you could insist, he made a loud sound of acknowledgement and broke into a smile. He looked at you with a sly grin for you a few seconds before he spoke.

"You thought we were testing you again, didn't you?" he asked, chuckling through his words.

You wanted to refuse immediately, but you could tell that Clint was going to insist until he got the truth from you anyway, so you decided to let it die early.

"Yes." you admitted, feeling like a child admitting a lie to their parent.

Clint kept laughing as he turned and began to walk to a line that likely indicated the start of the archery range.

"Oh, that's good." he sighed, chuckling as he drew his bow from his bag. After, he equipped his quiver and placed numerous arrows on a metal table beside him.

He moved from the table, making it a fair distance away before he started.

"It isn't that funny." you muttered, moving a little closer to him as he fired off an arrow, which directly struck the bullseye.

You continued watching him, marvelling at his skill. Natasha really hadn't understated him. From where you stood, it looked like he was barely even aiming or pulling back the string before they were flying for the bulls eyes. Unfortunately, the wonder had to wear off sooner or later, and after the approximate twentieth bulls eye in a row you were a little bored.

The sound of the targets being struck continued as you turned and surveyed the room blankly, not sure what to do. You wondered what your own training room would be like, if you even got one at all. Maybe just some gymnastics equipment, or just a big piece of track or something. It sounded like a bit of a waste of money, if you were honest. Your thoughts and search for something to do were cut short when your eyes came to rest on Clint's collection of arrows that lay strewn on a table. You stole a glance at Clint, who seemed far too focus on his archery to care what you were doing, before managing a single step toward them.

"Don't even think about it." Clint warned.

You turned your head to him in disbelief. You had barely moved toward the arrows at all. He returned the look with a serious expression, before loosing his arrow without checking. You didn't need to guess where it landed.

"Aw, why not? I'm not gonna do anything." you assured, continuing your journey.

"They're dangerous, (firstname)." he insisted.

"Clint. Seriously. Chill." you said, delicately lifting one of the sleek arrows by the shaft and admiring it.

"I'm not going to accidentally stab myself with it." you insisted. Really, you felt Clint was being much too cautious, like you were a baby.

"Well, you won't have to. Press that one in the wrong place and it'll kill us both in an explosion." he replied matter of factly. 

You froze for a second, moving the arrow further from you and not daring to touch it anywhere other than where you already had. You inspected the head, finding it bulbous, with the sharp point only sticking out slightly at the top. Was it really explosive? You were quickly starting to regret defying Clint.

"Are you serious?" you asked uneasily, staring at the arrow as if it were going to become sentient and attack you at any second.

"Of course not." Clint answered.

You relaxed, loosing a breath you didn't even realize you were holding.

"I'm much too far away for the explosion to kill me." he finished, notching another arrow and aiming for more targets.

You did your best to glare at Clint through your worry, still holding the arrow far away from you.

"Relax, it's not gonna blow." he said, a little dismissively, never taking his attention from the range.

Still you lowered the arrow back on the table with the utmost precision and care, flinching when it rolled slightly. Once you deemed it safe, you stepped back from the table and turned your gaze back to Clint.

"Why do you even bring those around with you?" you asked.

"Well, _I'm_ not dumb enough to play with 'em." Clint retorted.

He drew back the string, letting it fly before a voice stole the attention of the both of you.

"Agent Barton?" a woman requested, stepping into the room. You didn't recognize her, but she looked to be an important S.H.I.E.L.D agent herself, standing tall and proud with brunette hair pulled into a bun.

Clint turned to her, lowering his weapon and perking one eyebrow.

"Director Fury has a mission for you. Wants to see you immediately." she declared.

Clint stopped for a moment before nodding. You stood there unsure what to say as he packed up his equipment, just looking around and attempting to not seem let down.

"Later, agent (lastname)." he called, leaving the room. You knew what he had said about keeping things secret, but you didn't think the formality really necessary.

The woman turned her head to watch Clint leave, and once he did she turned back to you. After a brief moment of what felt like sizing you up, she moved toward you with a tight smile.

"Agent Hill." she introduced herself, extending a hand which you promptly shook.

"I don't believe we've met."

You shook your head in confirmation, offering a smile of your own.

"Don't think so. Agent (firstname)- Er, I mean (firstname). _Agent_ (lastname)." you stammered, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Something about this woman left you feeling nervous.

"Sorry. I'm not used to that yet." you chuckled uneasily, rubbing the back of your neck once the handshake was released.

Hill gave a genuine smile, folding her arms.

"Don't worry about it. You should see some of the new recruits nearly wetting themselves when they see the Director." she replied.

You laughed, imagining the sight. Should you be as nervous around the Director as them? There had to be a reason behind it.

"Sorry for stealing your partner. Do you need help finding your way around? I can find someone for you." she offered

"No, I think I can manage." you lied. You had no idea why you said that when you were clueless about the whole thing.

Agent Hill nodded before turning and heading for the exit. She went without another word, leaving you to stand there lamely and process what had just happened. In just about a minute you had lost your closest friend in S.H.I.E.L.D and been stranded in the depths of the headquarters because you spoke without thinking. Wonderful.

You took another look around the room before making your way to the exit, peering down the length of the hallway in thought. You could go exploring down the opposite way you came, or make _some_ attempt at finding your way back outside. Either way, you felt that the results would be quite similar, so you ended up choosing the latter.

After walking for a while in what you had confidence in as the right direction, you came to an intersection with three new paths. Each one looked nearly identical, save for different placement of doors on the walls. After a brief moment of irrational panic about being lost for weeks, you stopped and frowned, focusing on listening. From what you determined as the rightmost corridor came the faintest sound, a sort of repetitive thudding. With nothing else to go on, you made the decision to follow it. If nothing else, it might provide you with someone who could show you the way out.

The sound grew louder as you followed more paths, curious about its origin. At last you came to a door with a small window on it, the sound now louder than ever as you stood outside. The lack of other doors for a stretch of the hallway made it clear that this one was quite large, and after a while considering what it might be, you realized that the sound had ceased. At last you peered through the door's window, finding a large training room, not unlike Clint's, but this one lacked archery equipment in place of more gym equipment, and a few punching bags. Without many other options, you opened the door and stepped in, quietly shutting the door behind you. Hopefully, whoever was using the room wouldn't get grouchy that you came in.

You stepped up to the gym equipment, noticing the impressive weights on them before switching to the large punching bag on a chain. It certainly looked used, covered in creases and other signs of abuse. You placed a hand on it to see if it was warm, nearly jumping out of your skin when a voice came from behind you.

"Hey (firstname)." Steve greeted. He walked toward you in a t-shirt and sweats with a bottle of water in hand and towel over his shoulder. His hands seemed to be wrapped in bandages of sorts.

"Jesus Christ!" you exclaimed in exasperation, putting a hand on your chest as you waited for your heartbeat to stop mimicking a hummingbird's.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Steve replied, clearly trying to mask a smirk.

He set the towel and bottle down on the ground before looking back to you with his arms folded. Now that he was close you could see that his face was tinged slightly pink, a thin layer of sweat covering it and plastering his usually neat hair to his forehead. Supposedly he had been working out for a while.

"Well, good. 'Cuz...cuz you didn't." you answered shortly, making some attempt and preserving your pride.

This time he made no attempt to hide his smile, chuckling quietly. You couldn't help but break into a smile of your own, though it didn't make you feel any better.

"Alright. So what brings you here?" he asked. The way he looked at you made you feel as though that question really meant something else, though you didn't call him on it.

"Honestly, I came here with Clint but he was called elsewhere and then I got lost." you admitted, a little embarrassed.

Steve chuckled again, swiping his bottle from the ground before beckoning you to follow him to a bench at the wall. You followed, falling into seat beside him.

"i know the feeling." he replied, leaning back against the wall and giving you a toothy smile.

You raised your eyebrows in question, waiting for him to finish.

"When they first showed me this place, i must'a gotten lost ten times a day." he continued.

"They even gave me a cellphone to call when I got lost, but I couldn't figure _that_ out either."

You laughed out loud at the thought, earning a quiet chuckle from Steve too as he looked at you. Once you calmed, it was clear that neither of you knew what to say for a few moments until you thought of the whole computer situation.

"So, how did your 'talk' with Stark go? From what I heard you didn't go down there happy." you asked, grinning at the thought.

"Ah, that." Steve acknowledged, nodding as he looked down.

"Well, I told Stark to stop messing with my computer. Then he congratulated me for 'finally' figuring it out, made a vague promise to stop and asked me to leave."

You stared at him expectantly, waiting for him  to continue, though he did not.

"And? Then what?" you prodded.

Steve looked to you, slightly confused.

"Then nothing. I left." he stated.

"Really? A 'vague' promise? Why didn't you make him swear or something?" you asked, shifting so that you faced him fully in interest.

"And how would I do that?" was the reply.

You stared at him in disbelief, waiting to see if it was a joke. Here sat Captain America, serum enhanced super soldier, wondering how he could go about making someone stop messing with him. When he met your gaze with confusion and made no attempt at explaining, you sighed.

"Steve, you know you could probably kill him in like, three punches, right?" you asked, grinning in a mix of joking and confusion.

Steve scoffed before standing up and moving toward the punching bag again.

"And what would that solve?" he responded while picking up the towel he had dropped there earlier.

 "Well, I just mean, you don't have to let him treat you like that." you said, standing up yourself and watching as moved into a side room.

"Maybe not." he called from inside.

"But hitting him isn't gonna fix the problem."

You stood there, feeling a little ashamed. Steve was right, and for someone who preferred running to fighting, you had jumped to that solution pretty quickly. You considered why you had come to it so quickly, half listening as Steve sprayed something in the side room and zipped something.

"Besides," Steve continued, stepping back out with a gym bag around his shoulder.

"Stark's not that bad. He just likes getting a rise out of people."

You scoffed wryly, unsure what else to say.

"Come on, I'll show you the way out." he offered, heading for the exit.

"Oh, I don't want to stop you doing your training." you said, feeling a bit guilty, though you followed regardless.

"Don't worry about it. I was just about to go anyway." he assured.

You nodded, though Steve couldn't see it, being ahead of you. While you walked, your stomach was met with a sharp twang of discomfort, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since you woke up. You clamped a hand onto your abdomen, hoping that it wouldn't start making any auditory cues as well. Steve led the way, with you following mostly in silence until he spoke.

"So (firstname), what do you think of S.H.I.E.L.D so far?" he asked.

You narrowed your eyes slightly in thought. Was he asking this to make conversation or because he was told to? If it was the latter and you gave a bad answer, would something bad come of it? You thought on it, apparently a bit too long, as Steve turned his head to you questioningly. Without time to think, you went for the most neutral answer you thought of first.

"Yeah."

It took you a moment to realize what you said, after Steve stopped and turned to you with his eyebrows knitted together and a smile on his face.

"Uh, I meant-" you tried.

Your answer was cut short by the strangled whale calls emanating from your stomach.

Steve's smile only grew wider as you buried your face in your hands, feeling your face burn. 

"Sorry." you apologized, your voice barely above a whisper in your mortification.

"Sorry for what? Being hungry?" Steve asked, leading you to shrug your shoulders.

He was silent for a few moments before he spoke again, gently prying your hands from your face as he did so.

"(Firstname), there's no need to be embarrassed. Believe it or not, other people get hungry too." he assured, grinning when you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Tell you what, I know this great diner. How about we go and grab some food? i just need to get to the Tower and spruce up a little first."

You smiled at his kindness and nodded. He was right in a way, after all. Why was being hungry something that people got so embarrassed about?

"Thanks, Steve." you answered.

Steve nodded with a reassuring smile, letting go of your hands and beckoning with his head to follow him. As you did so, you couldn't stop Clint coming to your mind. Would he mind if you went to get food with Steve? Hopefully not.

Eventually, you came to the final hallway, following Steve down and trying not to focus in the hunger pains wracking your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you enjoyed that! I know the ending was pretty sudden and lame, but it's the most convenient place for where I want the next chapter to start.
> 
> Until next time!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the wait!

You and Steve exited through the main doors of the headquarters after passing through the room of 'desk-monkeys'. The pains in your stomach had retreated for the moment, though you were still all too aware of your state. The conversation between the two of you had come to a lull, with yourself, and presumably Steve, not too sure what to talk about. Public figure he might have been, but Steve's private life was, for all you knew, an entirely different side of him you had yet to see.

"So, uh.. you know what Barton got called for?" Steve piped up suddenly, speaking loudly to be heard over the sounds of the city as you both came to a crosswalk.

"No, I didn't really ask." you replied, matching his pace as the crowd began to cross the street.

"Are we _allowed_ to?" you continued, feeling a little silly for asking.

Even in spite of the raucous street sounds, you could have sworn you heard Steve chuckle.

"You can ask, don't mean they're gonna give you anything." he stated.

Steve veered left suddenly, though when you tried to follow suit, you collided with a large man, whom grunted and stopped as you recovered from your stumble. The sudden hit sent pangs of pain through your arm, causing you to hiss in discomfort.

"Wow, sorry." you apologized, rubbing your arm.

"Watch where you're going, stupid bi-" the man's angered muttering was drowned out as he proceeded through the crowd.

You stared after him for a moment, ultimately deciding to abandon any pursuit. Despite the very much uncalled for rudeness, you supposed you had been in the wrong.  With a shake of your head you came up to Steve, who seemed to be fiddling with a motorcycle, presumably his own.

"That yours?" you asked, moving up beside him. You didn't know much of anything about motorcycles, so you absently swirled a finger around on the seat.

"Yep. You're not afraid are you?" he asked, handing you a dark helmet and perking his eyebrows as he looked to you.

"Ah, of course not." you replied, not entirely sure on the answer yourself. Surely it couldn't be that bad. All it involved was sitting down without falling, right?

"But..but don't go too fast, okay?" you requested, somewhat sheepishly.

Steve chuckled, not appearing to answer as he took seat on the motorcycle and waited. After an apprehensive sigh, you swung your leg around and rested into the seat. You swiveled the helmet around in inspection before pulling it on and tugging on the strap. You looked around the motorcycle for something to hold on to, and just as you decided to grab the edges of the seat Steve's voice interrupted.

"You should wrap your arms around me, it's the safest thing to do."

You made a sound of acknowledgement , looking over Steve's back and hesitating. Though as far as you knew it was nothing of the same nature, you still felt somewhat guilty while you connected your arms at his front, hugging close to his back. Would Clint mind if he saw you like this? Surely not, it wasn't as if you were doing it for your own pleasure.

The engine came purring to life before Steve pulled out from his spot. Instantly you felt as though you might fall off of the seat and you tightened your arms, feeling the hairs on your body stand on edge. Steve inclined his head in your direction, though kept his eyes on the road as he spoke.

"So, not afraid huh?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"Shut up." you managed to respond in spite of your distress.

"It's always scary the first time." he called back, speaking louder to be heard over the increasing volume of the engine.

Without much to say in response, you took a breath of self assurance. Irrational fears of Steve toppling the bike over and killing you both invaded your mind and you fought back shivers. For the moment, you would have to convince yourself that Steve knew what he was doing. With the thoughts going through your mind, you became immensely grateful for the helmet, and subsequently came to notice Steve's lack thereof.

"Hey." you called for his attention, not wanting to proceed until you were sure he heard you.

There was no response for a moment, but just as you drew a breath to try again Steve's voice responded.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you have another helmet for yourself?" you asked, leaning forward a little more to ensure you were heard.

"Nah, I'm good." he claimed, shaking his head.

"I pretty much only keep that one for if I have a passenger."

Even in the situation you managed a small smile under your helmet. How selfless of him, though it didn't seem very sensible.

"That's nice and all, Steve, but honestly it sounds pretty stupid." you spoke honestly, feeling a tad mean.

Through the noise of the engine, and the streets around you, you heard no sound from Steve, though you felt certain he laughed.

"Maybe." he answered.

"But when _you_ have a helmet on, it's easier to do _this._ " he continued, that smile coating his voice again.

The motorcycle's engine came to a roar, and you felt tremors wrack your body as your speed increased. You let out an involuntary squeal, hugging Steve tighter and feeling your hair graduate from a gentle sway to a set of violent whips. Much too frightened to lift your head, you ended up pressing the side of your helmet into Steve's back out of desperation.

"Steve!" you cried, waiting for the moment where you would collide with another car or perhaps lose traction and skid onto the sidewalk.

However, no such things came to light, and as time passed, you felt the fear in you evolve into pure, exhilarating adrenaline. You watched the building and people on either side transform into mere blurs of colour , your heart feeling as though it were pumping joy itself through your veins. You broke into laughter, almost oblivious to the fact that your unzipped jacket threatened to take off on its own. Though unwittingly, you seemed to have grasped your arms closer, holding onto Steve so tightly that you could feel him laughing too with you. After a few more moments, you developed the courage to raise your head again. You looked over Steve's shoulder, flinching first at seeing everything in front of you come rushing, though it quickly became even more incredible than looking off to the sides.

Unfortunately, the ride had to end somewhere, and Steve slowed down as he prepared to pull up beside Stark Tower. Glad as you were to have the chance to be on solid ground again, some disappointment rose in you.

After the vehicle came to a stop, you began to swing your leg around again, grimacing as small wires of pain fired through you. Most all muscles in your legs and arms ached, likely as a side effect of tensing and squeezing so tightly. After testing out your legs a few times, bending them and taking a few baby steps, you gained confidence in your ability to walk and reached up for the helmet.

Steve had already extricated himself from the seat, giving a light smirk as your wind whipped helmet hair was revealed and splayed out like a broken umbrella.

"Not a word, Rogers." you threatened playfully, giving him a smiling glare as you straightened it out. Hopefully it wouldn't sound bitter, even if Clint was close to you there were more Avengers with favour to earn.

Steve held up his hands in silent surrender, still smirking as he began to lead you toward the Tower. You put on a smile of your own and followed, feeling hopeful in your chances of being friends with him. Once you neared the doors, he pulled one open and stood to the side, allowing you first entry. You smiled before stepping in, though the smile originated more from your thought of Clint's door antics than Steve's chivalry.

"I hope your shoulder's okay. It didn't hurt, did it?" Steve asked once the door closed behind him, concern tinging his voice.

Sensing an opportunity for revenge on the motorcycle, you raised your hand to your shoulder.

"Actually, it hurts pretty bad. I think it might have gone out again." you lied, fighting back a smile.

"Oh, really? Tell me, _when_ did you notice? You seemed fine getting off the bike." Steve responded.

"Oh, uh.." you muttered, cursing Steve for his perception.

"It started just there. Must have been the adrenaline, I guess!" you answered with a little too much enthusiasm, and a nervous laugh to boot. By now you were only making things worse but you wanted to be the victor of the situation.

"Uh huh. And how do you know it's the same injury?" Steve prodded. You swore you could hear the tiniest amount of amused suspicion in his voice as he pressed the button for the elevator.

You cursed mentally, regret filling you.

"Oh, I-I don't. I don't know anything about medicine, really." you stated. Not entirely true, but how and ever.

The elevator chimed in arrival and the doors pulled open, welcoming you both to its empty interior. Steve pressed the button once you both stepped in, with you still holding your shoulder in mock pain.

"Is that so?" Steve wondered. The sudden creeping of slyness into his voice was unsettling.

"Well, I happen to know a little. They might have to break it and let it heal again properly."

Your gaze snapped to Steve, with confusion on the rise in you. Even if you didn't know a whole lot about medicine, you weren't sure that was right.

"I don't think that's right." you replied, your eyes narrowed in uncertain thought.

"Sure it is." Steve claimed. With this, he took a step toward you, his eyes locking on yours.

"In fact, we should just break it now so it's ready for the doctors. C'mere." he ordered, his hands steadily moving toward your shoulder.

You flinched, entirely confused as you watched his approach. Even if your shoulder _was_ hurting you, this was certainly no reasonable plan of action. Steve seemed to be acting wildly out of character, which was only more disturbing for the fact that you knew he was capable of what he planned. Locked in your state, you could only watch as his hands grazed your shoulder. Your heart bounded in fear as you waited, but he came to a complete stop and looked back to your eyes again, a smile on his face.

"Really?" he asked, chuckling through the word.

"How far were you gonna let me go before you just admitted to being a terrible liar?"

Almost every recognizable emotion possible attacked you simultaneously, leaving you unable to speak with your mouth agape and your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. After realizing you were in no state to speak, Steve chuckled quietly again and turned back to face the doors.

"Sorry, (firstname)." he apologized, the smile never leaving his features.

You could only manage to turn to the doors as your body and mind desperately worked to bring themselves back into order.

Being the butt of Avenger jokes was really getting old.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! I meant to include the diner scene and whatnot in this chapter, but I got sidetracked with the motorcycle and all, and I wanted to post this chapter as soon as I felt I had a reasonable cut off point.
> 
> Until next time!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sorry it's late enjoy and all.

As you sat on your bed and brushed through your hair again, determined to  bring it back into order after the wind had a go at it, your mind drifted back to Clint. Was he doing okay? You hadn't even been told what kind of mission he was going out on. For all you knew he could have been dangling over a fire pit full of snakes while being shot at by helicopters.

Well, perhaps that was a little bit of an exaggeration.

Still, a plethora of worrying ideas crossed your mind, leaving you staring blankly at the wall with your hairbrush halfway through your locks. The thought crossed your mind to ask exactly what he would be doing next time. On the other hand, you didn't want to come across as too desperate. You sighed to yourself at your worrying and wiped your hands over your face in an attempt to cleanse your mind. Either way, getting in a tizzy about his state of being wouldn't guarantee him home safely. You took your wallet from your nightstand and tucked it away, still deep in thought.

It appeared you had been sitting there thinking longer than you had intended when a knock sounded from your door, leading you to raise your head. You waited for the person to talk, but when they didn't you stood up and walked over. As you hand ghosted the handle, the idea of it being Clint entered your mind. You broke into an involuntary smile and stopped to fix yourself up before putting your hand on the handle again. Taking a sharp breath, you opened the door to find Steve, freshly showered and in a new set of casual clothes.

"Hey (firstna- what?" he asked, his eyes opening slightly in question.

"What what?" you replied, confused.

"You look unbelievably disappointed to see me." he answered as you stepped out of your room.

You cursed yourself for not being able to better hide your emotions, and started walking toward the elevator in an attempt to ward off an awkward silence outside of your room.

"I do? Sorry." you apologized, not making eye contact as you pressed the button for the elevator.

Steve said nothing more, though you could feel his gaze flicker to you every few seconds. You let out a quiet sigh as you both stepped in, pressing the button for the bottom floor. Different excuses rampaged through your mind, worried that if Steve found out the truth S.H.I.E.L.D. would too and you would be fired. Your thoughts were interrupted by hunger pains in you stomach, though Steve seemed to take no notice as he spoke.

"Is something bothering you, (firstname)?" he asked, his voice tender.

Your first thought was to deny immediately, though it clearly wasn't true, and you anticipated Steve would insist more. Instead, you decided on a half truth.

"I'm just a little worried about Barton, is all." you confessed, using Clint's second name in an attempt to seem professional.

Steve nodded, thought you felt that by his expression he wasn't entirely convinced.

"Oh, I see." he stated.

There was a few seconds of silence where you watched the numbers on the elevator fall before Steve spoke up again.

"Well hey, trust me, you don't need to worry about Barton. Guy's one of the toughest I know, he'll be alright."

You smiled lightly and nodded at Steve, grateful for his reassurance, even if he wasn't fully aware of the situation. You would have thanked him, but that might have given away too much so instead you turned back to the doors.

"So, is this diner really that good?" you asked, wanting to change the subject to something less serious.

"Oh, for sure. Been going there for years. Best grilled sandwiches I've ever tasted." he confirmed, a light smile on his face.

"Well," you began as the doors opened.

"Let's get there a.s.a.p, I'm starving." you claimed, moving for the reception doors.

This time you got there ahead of Steve and walked out first, holding the door open for him, to which he nodded gratefully. You looked to his bike, feeling your heart thump with excitement, but Steve pulled to the right instead, continuing down the sidewalk.

"Oh, are we walking?" you asked, doing a decent job of hiding your disappointment this time.

"Yeah, it's really not that far." Steve replied.

After a minute or two of walking, Steve led the way into a quaint diner with booths along the windows and backless stools along the counter. You felt you understood why Steve liked it, possibly being a little familiar to him. The both of you gravitated to the same booth, taking seat on the red leather and picking up a menu. You perused the contents, ultimately deciding on some tea and grilled cheese and hams Steve appeared so fond of. Your stomach gnawed at you again, as though to confirm your decision.

Quite quickly for how long you had been there, a cheery looking waitress approached the two of you.

"Hey there! What can I get the two of you?" she beamed.

Steve nodded to you in suggestion, and you cleared your throat before speaking.

"I'll just take a grilled ham and cheese with tea, please." you requested, offering a smile.

The waitress nodded, noting down your order before turning to Steve. The blatant shift in nature of her gaze when she looked to him left you trying to conceal a smile.

"And you?" she asked.

"The same, but with a coffee, please." Steve ordered, giving a smile of his own.

"Excellent choice." she praised, nodding as she noted down Steve's order too.

Once she had walked away, you grinned at Steve slyly, leaving him to return a confused look.

"What?" he asked, genuinely appearing clueless.

"Looks like someone's got a little crush on the Captain." you spoke through your smile.

"Wh-who? The waitress?" Steve asked, turning his head to look for her. Seeing her two tables away, she returned the look with a bashful smile.

"Clearly. Can't you see it?" you asked incredulously.

Steve looked back to you after a moment and shook his head, still looking somewhat put off.

"My God Steve." you chided, shaking your head lightly.

"What? How was I supposed to know?" Steve retorted, as though he were being accused of a horrid crime.

You stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to think up a response before you straightened your back and posed your hands as though you were holding a notepad and pen.

" _Excellent choice._ " you mimicked, flashing a smile and batting your eyelashes at Steve, who only chuckled and reproachfully shook his head.

"I'm sure she was just being polite." he suggested.

You scoffed, relaxing into the table with your forearms on it.

"Why deny it? You should be flattered." you insisted.

"Well, m-maybe I'm not looking for a relationship right now." Steve said, looking down to his hands.

It was all you could do not to laugh at how innocently cute Steve was acting. Instead, you raised an eyebrow in teasing and leaned forward just a tad more.

"Oh? Is there already someone else?" you asked.

You expected an instant refusal, but Steve just shifted uncomfortably in his seat before clearing his throat lowly.

"Well, I'unno if I'd say _someone else._ I mean, I like her and all, but we're really just friends." he admitted.

You paused, slightly taken aback. You hadn't expected him to actually admit anything.

"Well, why don't you just tell her then?" you asked, settling back into your seat rather lamely. Relationship advice had never been your forté.

"I'm pretty sure she'd say no." he confessed.

" _Say no?_ " you repeated in bewilderment.

"Steve, you're Captain America for God's sake. Half the girls in the country would faint if they event _thought_ about you telling them you like them."

Steve let out a short laugh, smirking as he looked up to you. Before he could answer you were approached by the waitress from earlier.

"Here you are. Two grilled ham and cheeses and a tea and coffee." she announced, laying the appropriate dishes in front of the two of you.

"Enjoy." she said, very deliberately smiling at Steve, who returned the favour.

After she left, you perked a suspicious eyebrow at Steve, who looked down again with the faintest tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"Just eat your food." he ordered quietly.

You smiled and began working on your meal, believing Steve's claim of the quality of the food.

\--

Once you finished off the last of your tea you looked to Steve, who was also finishing his own. Thoughts about your conversation in S.H.I.E.L.D HQ earlier surfaced,  leaving you a tad worried about what Steve thought. You didn't want his first impression about you to be some violent troublemaker based on what you had implied about him and Tony.

"Hey, this might sound weird, but.." you began, stopping to think about the best way to phrase it without sounding crazy. Steve simply looked to you with his eyebrows raised in question.

"Remember back at your training room when I said you could.. deal with Tony if you wanted to?"

Steve frowned slightly, but nodded.

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked.

"I'm-I'm not like that, you know." you said, rather embarrassed to be apologizing for it so long later.

"I don't go around punching people to solve my problems."

"Uh, yeah I know." Steve replied.

"But, uh, why are you telling me this?"

"I didn't want you to get the wrong impression of me." you admitted, scratching the back of your head sheepishly.

Steve scoffed and looked at you for a few moments as if waiting for you to admit you were joking. When you said no more, it was his turn to lean forward.

"(Firstname), I know you're not like that. You don't have to prove anything to me." he stated warmly.

The two of you turned your heads as a different waitress approached with your bill. Before Steve could even take out his wallet you had the money out and handed it to the waitress.

"I told you I'd get it this time." you told him with a smirk.

Steve nodded in gratitude as he put his wallet away again.

"Nothing to prove at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time though I don't know when that will be I'm sort of running out of steam right now especially since I have another fictional character to obsess over for a while so bye.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! More Super late chapters hooray!

You stepped out of the diner, holding the door for Steve, who nodded to you in gratitude as he passed. As the two of you began walking down the street back toward Stark Tower, you decided to take a try at making some small talk. So far it seemed you were doing well on befriending Steve, so there was no harm in trying to go a little further.  
  
"So.." you began, realizing too late that you hadn't thought of a question before you started speaking.  
  
"So?" Steve echoed, looking down at you as you walked.  
  
You raised a hand to the side of your head, absently rubbing it as you thought and tried not to be embarrassed. What could you even ask him?  
  
"Do you have any plans for later?" you asked quickly, plucking a random question from your mind in desperation. Hopefully it didn't sound intrusive or anything.  
  
Steve made a brief sound of thought before speaking up again.  
  
"Uh, yeah, I got-" he began. Through the noise of the crowds you heard him sigh to himself.  
  
"Um, sorry (firstname) but I've got some personal matters to attend to." he finished.  
  
"Just gotta get to the Tower first and I'm off."  
  
You nodded with an understanding smile, though you couldn't help but wonder. What kind of personal matters did someone like Steve get involved in? Was he even telling the truth? Perhaps he just didn't want to be around you any more and was trying to put it nicely. That would be just like him.  
  
"Hey, it's no problem, don't apologize." you assured, shaking your head quickly.  
  
"We should do this again some time, it was fun." Steve added suddenly, leaving you to perk your eyebrows as you looked at him. Was he just trying to be nice again? Either way it wouldn't help your case to refuse.  
  
"Oh, yeah, totally." you agreed.  
  
After a minute of walking, you were but a few buildings away from Stark Tower when there was a ruckus a few feet to your side, audible even amongst the sounds of city life. You turned your head, raising an eyebrow upon seeing some frantic movement and hearing what sounded like panicked tones. Before you could even make sense of the situation a figure bolted out of the commotion, clasping some kind of satchel in his hands. You raised your eyebrows at realizing it was an emergency, barely having time to turn toward Steve before he was already halfway to the culprit, leaving you to watch lamely.  
  
Somehow, Steve managed to avoid knocking over any innocent bystanders in his path, bolting on a beeline for his target. You clasped your hands together, entirely lost on what to do. Should you help? You might just get in the way and slow Steve down. Would he think less of you for not doing anything? Honestly, the thought of stopping the mugger hadn't even passed your conscious until you had seen Steve going for it. Your internal dilemma was interrupted at the sound of police sirens, and at last you began to move toward the scene once the officers stepped out of their vehicles. Faint sounds of speech were all that met your ears as you neared, watching as they apprehended the criminal and turned to the unfortunate victim. Steve stayed for a moment, probably ensuring that everything was alright, before making his way back to you.  
  
"Sorry about that." he apologized.  
  
You frowned in confusion, looking up to him.  
  
"Sorry for what?"  
  
"Well, I kinda just left you standing there." he explained, his face taking on an apologetic expression.  
  
You kept your gaze on him for a few moments, trying to gauge if he was serious or not. He was essentially apologizing for helping someone.  
  
"Steve, you- you just helped someone, what on earth are you apologizing for? I'm not offended that you left to go help someone."  
  
Steve smiled, looking down and seeming a tad embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
"Well, yeah, but I probably should'a said somethin' first."  
  
"Oh my God, Steve. Stop apologizing." you insisted, unable to help smile at his behaviour. Yes, he was known for his heart of gold, but this was just ridiculous.  
  
"Right, sor- uh.. okay." he replied.  
  
He glanced once more to the situation before turning to the Tower, which had ended up just a little ways behind the two of you.  
  
"So, you ready to go?" he asked.  
  
You nodded wordlessly and allowed him to lead the way back to the Tower, nodding gratefully as he held the door for you. As the two of you made way to the elevator your thoughts drifted back to Clint. What would he have done in that situation? You couldn't begin to guess, thought you were almost certain he would be teasing you for your inaction right now.  
  
Steve pressed the button and the doors pulled open immediately. He stepped in first and you fell into place beside him before pressing the appropriate button.  
  
"So, you know your way around the Tower now?" Steve asked.  
  
You thought on it for a moment before shaking your head.  
  
"Well, might be an idea to get to know it better while I'm gone, if you've got nothing else to do."  
  
You considered the statement. Knowing the layout better certainly wouldn't help, and until Clint you couldn't foresee much more to be done.  
  
"Sounds good." you said, nodding.  
  
After another few moments the doors opened again, followed by both of you stepping out. Steve turned to you with a half smile before spoke.  
  
"Well, I'll uh, I'll catch you later (firstname)." he declared.  
  
You nodded, sticking on a smile.  
  
"Yeah. Later Steve."  
  
He offered you one last nod before turning and disappearing the hallway, leaving you clueless about where to start. You did want to explore some, but you didn't fancy getting lost. You made your way to the living room,  looking around before taking notice of a doorway you hadn't used before. It was the one that you first saw upon waking up in Stark Tower a few days ago, that you had abandoned in favour of taking the elevator. With a shrug you walked down it, stopping at the end and looking both ways. Throwing caution to the wind, you turned right and followed the hallway, taking note of a series of doors before coming to another intersection. With one last look down your current hallway, hoping you would remember it, you turned right again in an attempt to make it easier for yourself. A few steps down you came to notice that the hallway was in fact quite familiar to you, and before you had even reached it you were thinking back on the last time you had been looking through that large glass wall.  
  
This time however, the door was already open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the sucky ending, but I'm trying to leave something for myself so that I know what to start the next chapter on.
> 
> Until next time!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, faster update! Hope you enjoy!

You paused in the entryway, considering your actions. The last time you had been standing there you were minutes away from trying to steal from the Tower, and you began to wonder if even being there would be considered hostile. Yes, the first time it had turned out to be a plan to lure you into S.H.I.E.L.D'S custody, but nonetheless your intentions had not been well placed.

In spite of your caution, however, curiosity was rampant within you. The first time you had merely managed a glance at the contents of the room before you had tried to continue your mission, but now, assuming there was no problem with your presence, you were free to roam about as you liked. You turned your gaze back down the hallway you had come from, watching it for a few moments to see if anyone was about to come running down and reprimand you, but when it remained lifeless you dared step forward into the room.

It appeared much the same as it had the first time, including the random chunks of metal strewn about and the laser cutting machine that you had made use of on your first visit. An unmissable change this time, however, was the fact that one of Tony's suits was stationed between you and said machine.

You regarded it warily, even though judging by the lifeless mask it appeared to be inactive. You stepped toward it with interest, looking it up and down. You had seen he suits before, of course, but only from afar, or through a news report on television. Getting the chance to observe it up close was quite interesting. With one last glance back at the entrance to find it empty, you tentatively reached out and felt the chest plate, running your hand down the cold metal before coming to a stop at the circle in the center, normally lit up brightly when in use. At that moment however it was as dull as could be. You wondered what it would be like to be inside the suit, soaring through the skies, and smiled at even the thought of the exhilaration it would bring. So deep were you in your thoughts that you came close to jumping out of your skin when a voice sounded from right in front of you.

"You know, this feels a lot better for the both of us with the suit off."

You froze, your hand frozen close to your chest after you had retracted it, and stared at the suit. Following a brief moment, the metal opened up and you watched, mortified as Tony stepped out from it. He looked to you as if he hadn't noticed your distress as the suit closed again behind him, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Something the matter?" he asked innocently.

"You-the-the suit.." you mumbled, feeling your cheeks flare up with embarrassment.

Tony regarded you blankly as you struggled before turning and making his way over to a tool cabinet.

"You were in the suit." you managed, rather lamely.

"Uh, yeah." Tony responded, nodding at you statement as he returned to his suit and began to work on something.

"That's kinda my thing, you know. _Iron_ _Man?_ "

"But- but it lights up when you're in it." you said, feeling your heart rate slowly come back to to acceptable levels.

"It _should_." he countered, continuing to tinker away.

"That's why it's in the workshop." he finished, rather condescendingly.

You frowned, a tad put out by his attitude.

"Well _I_ didn't know." you answered sourly.

"No, no you didn't did you?" Tony asked, a smile in his voice.

"Scared you pretty bad."

You sighed hotly. True, it had given you a pretty big scare, but nonetheless you wanted to deny it for the sake of pride.

"I wasn't-" you began.

"So why you down here anyway?" Tony interrupted, finally turning his head to you as his hands continued to work.

"There's not much to steal."

You narrowed your eyes, folding your arms as you looked to him. Now he was just being unfair.

"Wow, _that's_ not fair. It was literally your idea to take the file so you could lure me in." you stated.

"Well, actually, it was Fury's idea." he responded dismissively, taking a step back from his work and looking it over.

"Hey, while you're here, can you be useful and hand me that?" he asked, pointing to the ground behind you without even looking in your direction.

You turned, looking at the floor before scooping up a rather small circular wrench. You placed it in his outstretched hand and watched him abandon the suit in favour of the laser machine a few feet away, moving to the furthest side. You considered just leaving while you had the chance, but like it or not, sooner or later you were going to have to get to know him better. A smaller part of you didn't want to make him think he annoyed you into leaving, either, so there was that too.

You approached him, watching as his eyes flickered up to you for a split second before returning to his work.

"Oh, you're still here?" he asked apathetically.

"So, what's this for?" you tried, doing your best to ignore the passive aggressive question.

"I think you know the answer to that, considering you used it to slice an innocent cabinet in half." Tony replied, not looking up to you.

"You also broke it when you threw it on the ground, so thanks for that."

You stopped, unsure how to respond. Again you wanted to insist upon his treatment being unjust considering the situation you had been in, but you also wanted to get along with your team, Tony included.

"Well..sorry?" you attempted, accidentally making the apology sound like a question by near instinct. You weren't used to apologizing for something that you didn't really feel at fault for.

Tony stopped his work and looked up to you expectantly, as if waiting for you to correct yourself.

"Sorry." you repeated, doing your best to make it sound more genuine.

He maintained the gaze for another few moments before sighing and switching back to his work.

"Well, it's nothing a genius can't fix." he said, almost more to himself than you.

Deciding to take that as an accepting of your apology, you smiled lightly. It felt nice to resolve the situation that way rather than creating more arguments. It encouraged you to go further, sidestepping so that the part of the machine Tony was working on was in your view.

"So, can I help here?"

"Uh, yes actually. Hold your finger here." Tony answered, pointing to a section of wires inside the machine.

You nodded, stepping forward and reaching toward the section. Tony shifted to the side to allow you room, though continued working on his own part. The moment your finger hit the section you jumped as it was given a formidable shock.

"Oh, so _that's_ the problem." Tony muttered, moving back to his original position and starting to fidget with the section.

You looked at the back of his head incredulously, clutching the finger, though after a few moments you couldn't help but smile. It wasn't as if it was a lightning strike.

"Are you serious?" you asked, laughing through your words.

"Hm?" Tony responded innocently, turning back to you, tool in hand.

"Don't use me as a guinea pig." you reprimanded, shaking your head reproachfully.

"No, not a guinea pig." he refused, tapping the wrench against his open palm and looking up to the ceiling as he thought.

"More like a... beta tester." he concluded, looking back to you again.

"Look at this way, you get to experience how the machine works before anyone else."

"But that's not even what it does." you answered, your smile only growing more at his antics.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I suppose you would know better than the man who invented it. Please, be my guest." he offered, holding the wrench out to you with an expectant stare.

You raised an eyebrow, which was met with a triumphant smirk.

"No? Didn't think so."

You watched him turn back to his work, sighing. You had already known that Tony Stark was not the most mature or easily gotten along with person on the planet, but his immaturity was starting to reveal itself in levels that you couldn't have anticipated. You smirked to yourself as a thought ran through your head;

This was one friendship you might regret trying to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the chapters have turned all boring lately guys, I've kind of written myself into a bad situation excitement wise, here's hoping I can think of an appropriate way to pick it back up!


	23. Chapter 23

"So..." you said slowly, eager to break the silence that had formed in the workshop.

For a while now Tony had just continued to tinker away at various pieces of machinery, leaving you to stand around idly. Much as you would have liked to help, you had no idea where to start, and you weren't looking forward to another 'beta test'. When Tony didn't respond right away, you turned your head and looked across the deepest reaches of the workshop. It all seemed relatively similar, with nothing truly capturing your interest as you looked on.

"Oh, you don't have to pretend to be interested." came Tony's eventual response, sounding very matter of fact.

"You can leave if you want."

You looked back in his direction, just able to make out the top of his head past the large piece of technology he was working on. In truth, you were starting to get a tad bored for your lack of any way to help, but you hadn't wanted to say it for fear of being rude.

"Unless you had something more... _personal_  planned when you came here." he finished.

His eyes came into view over the edge of the machine, filled with mischievousness, to meet your incredulous smile.

"Uh, and what is  _that_ supposed to mean?" you asked, placing your hands on your hips and putting on a faux offended tone.

"Hey sweet stuff,  _you're_ the one that came in and starting feeling me up in my suit." he replied.

"I didn't know you were inside." you stated, unable to stop a laugh.

"Sure you did. You knew it. Knew in your heart." Tony insisted, standing up and placing his hands flat on the surface of the machine as he looked over the side he had been working on.

"It's alright, I don't blame you."

You raised your eyebrows, an unstoppable smile on your lips. You knew that he was only toying with you, of course, but nonetheless it was stunning how high his ego reached. In a split second thought you decided to try beat him at his own game.

"You know what, you're right. I  _did_ know you were in there." you lied, beginning to slowly make your way toward him and making your best effort at a seductive walk.

Tony's eyebrows simply perked as he watched you. Though he tried to hide it with indifference, you could read the curiosity in his eyes.

"I saw you down here alone, and I just couldn't help myself." you 'confessed', only but a few steps from him.

At this, the smallest of smirks pulled at Tony's mouth. It wasn't much, and you began to fear that it wasn't working, but there was no way that you could give up at this point. You really wanted to get him with this for what he did to you earlier, and how embarrassing would it be to have to accept defeat now? With these thoughts in mind, you resolved to kick it up a notch.

"Come on Tony, what's wrong?" you asked, at last reaching the table.

With no improvement, you were beginning to regret starting this, but regardless you slowly slid your hands across the machine until they met Tony's, bringing them on top of his as you leaned your body forward. With a little dip in your pride, you manoeuvred your upper half so that your chest stuck out more. At last, the smirk graduated to a full, devious smile as Tony's eyes glanced at as much of your body as he could. With an inward cry of victory, your smile grew. The further hooked you could get him, the greater the let down would be.

"Well?" you egged him on, daring to go a step further by ghosting a finger under his chin and letting it stop before it left his face.

Tony's eyes began to show such excitement that you found yourself struggling to restrain a premature laugh. Desperate to disguise it you began to lean your head in, going for a kiss. You wouldn't let it get that far, of course, and with regret you realized you had forced yourself to end it earlier than you had wanted. As your faces neared, your eyes locked in one another's, your mind was rampant with witty sentences to use before your lips met. Just as you had decided on one, Tony's eyes flickered, switching to something behind you. Instantly you felt the mood you had created collapse, and with some exasperation you turned to find Clint standing in the doorway.

Your eyes widened, and you could feel every fiber of your being run cold. You were too shocked to even manage saying something, only able to watch with anticipation. Clint's gaze lingered on the situation, particularly you, and the look on his face sent your heart reeling with sadness. There was no animosity in his gaze, which only made it all the worse, instead replaced by blank disappointment. Time through the entire area seemed to slow to a crawl as the three of you stood silent. What could you possibly say? You were the only one who had known you were only joking, and you felt trying to insist so now would only make it worse. The tension at last broke when you felt Tony's hand and chin disappear from your touch. With it, Clint at last came to life, looking down and clearing his throat before turning and starting to head down the hallway.

Once he was out of sight, your body relaxed itself, though your mind did nothing of the sort. You knew you had to follow him. There had to be some way to explain it to him. Even if he wouldn't accept it, you had to try. You turned your head, interested in how Tony was coping, but barely caught sight of him leaving through another door before you paced for the door Clint had left through. You stared down the hallway, finding it already empty before following it, a jog in your step. All the while you searched through the different pathways your mind was frenzied with explanations and excuses. How could you reasonably explain what he had just seen? Would he understand it was only a joke on Tony if you said so? There was only one way to find out.

You eventually found yourself back to the living room, throwing your desperate gaze throughout the room. Without even the TV on, the room was entirely devoid of life, absorbing the distraught sigh you gave out. The afternoon light shone through the window, inviting you to step forward and spy on the city life below. With a heavy heart you decided that it was a good a place as any to calm down and let yourself think about what you were going to say to Clint. There'd be no use trying to get _him_ to calm down if you had yourself in a tizzy and didn't even know what to say. You approached the glass, folding your arms and looking down to the bustling streets below. Even all the way up in the Tower, faint sounds of the city droned in your ears. As you were left victim to your own thoughts, another side of you battled through the sadness to get to work on berating you. Why on Earth would you think that playing Tony like that was a good idea? There must have been infinitely more ways to deal with the situation but you had chosen to silliest one possible and now you were regretting every second of it. Much as you tried to resist, you felt the backs of your eyes begin to sting with threatened tears.

"Hey." the voice broke you from your thoughts, turning around to find Tony standing behind you.

"Tony, I'm sorr-" you tried.

He held up a flat hand, switching his gaze down with a shake of his head.

"Save it. Jus-" Tony caught himself, clenching his hand and lowering it again.

"Barton goes up to the roof when he's upset."

You watched as he turned and left, unsure what to say. Was Tony as hurt had Clint had been? Surely you hadn't been that convincing. Either way, you resolved to say something to him as soon as you had gotten Clint out of the way.

You glanced back through the window before turning your attention to the hallway that led to the elevator. You let loose one last sigh of anticipation before beginning to head toward it. For all you couldn't predict, you did know one thing.

This was not going to be easy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hopefully this chapter was more exciting than the others. I won't be able to keep updating this fast but I got a lot done in the past two weeks so I'm happy!


	24. Chapter 24

The elevator doors closed, encasing you with only your rampant thoughts as company. You rubbed your hands together tensely, watching the doors and running through everything in your mind. Why did such an innocently intentioned joke have to spiral out of control so quickly? All you had intended for was a little harmless payback at Tony for teasing you, and now you were on your way up to the roof to explain to Clint why you looked like you had been cheating on him.

Doubt surged through your thoughts, pasting another layer of dread on top of you. Was it really even cheating? Had you and Clint ever really been a thing at all? Sure, you had kissed and slept in the same bed, but what if he had never felt the way you did? Why would he have gotten so upset about what he had seen if he didn't? You sighed and wiped your hands over your face, feeling them tremble ever so slightly with anticipation.

It was very likely that Clint wasn't the only one you had to worry about either. You appeared to have offended Tony in some way or another too, something you had planned in the back of your mind to remedy at a later stage. Steve and Natasha, what would they think of all this? If they found out, would they tell S.H.I.E.L.D? You could lose your job.

The doors opened at last,  welcoming you to a vast room. A lush, cream carpet softened most of it, only switching to wood at a set of two or three steps that extended across with width of the room some distance away. Off to the right was a bar of sorts, complete with an L shaped counter and innumerable bottles lining shelves. Spotless windows that made up the entirety of the walls at the other side of the room bathed it all in a natural light. You moved forward, too afraid to even call for Clint as your head swiveled around the room. Tony had said he would be on the roof, but this floor was the highest that the elevator could go. As the bar neared, you cast your gaze over the varying labels,some in languages you weren't even sure of. Was Clint the kind of man to drink away his problems? Hopefully not. After declaring the bar empty, you turned and felt your heart seize when your gaze snagged on something out of the window.  There was a large walkway leading up to what seemed a circular landing pad, likely for Tony's suits. Lacking any safety rails, it invited a drop down the entire Stark Tower before a very sudden stop on the streets of New York below. Sitting on the edge of the circle was Clint, looking out across the city. The disconnected look on his face sent chills down your spine before your feet unglued themselves and sent you into a run.

"Miss (Lastname)." a voice sounded from above you.

You stopped, throwing your eyes upward for a source.

"Jarvis?" you asked, before resuming a brisk walk.

"You need not be concerned about Mr. Barton's safety. He is often on the landing pad, and it is highly unlikely that he is in any danger."

You nodded silently, not having much attention to spare for the AI as you focused on Clint. His back was to you as you paced down the walkway, wondering what on Earth you could say. _'Hey Clint, sorry that I almost kissed Tony. Our relationship is just so meaningless to me that I can joke about wanting to do someone else and feel nothing.'_

Would he even believe it was a joke? The wind toyed with your hair , flicking most of it off to one side while you approached more and more. Clint seemed entirely unaware, probably too deep in thought to pay much attention. His back was hunched slightly, steadily moving with each breath giving him a defeated look that made your heart quiver with sadness. His hair was more messy than was usually seen too, as though he had run his hands through it a few times. Did he do that when he was stressed?

You came just out of arm's length, stopping and clamping your hands together while you regarded him. Your brain coursed through a million different conversations at once, desperately trying to predict one that would be the easiest for both of you, but you could feel something deeper, something urging you to just go for it and hope for the best.

"Clint." you called, barely managing not to wince at the pain you caused yourself by squeezing your hand too hard.

His back fell still for a moment before his head tilted to the side. Not enough to look at you, but enough to show a small section of his cheek.

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

You sighed, already feeling the edges of your eyes tingle with a single sentence. But you knew you couldn't give up. He had to know the truth, how you felt, everything. if you gave up and ran off crying, wouldn't you just look all the more guilty?

"Clint, please." you begged, taking another step closer and watching his head reset forward again.

He didn't shift any further or respond, however, and after throwing a wary glance over the edge, you lowered yourself to sit beside him. The specks on the streets below went about their own business, completely unaware of the difficulties taking place above them. You could have set there for days, watching them and formulating the best way to gets your thoughts out through your mouth, but could Clint wait that long?

"I'm sorry." you stated, going for the icebreaker. Clint didn't respond, and you snaked your hands to the edge of the platform, gripping it tightly.

"It didn't-"

"Didn't what?" Clint cut off, at last turning his head fully and looking you in the eyes.

"Didn't mean anything?"

Before you could confirm anything, he shook his head switched back to looking out across the city.

"Don't insult me." he muttered.

"It _didn't_ , Clint!" you insisted, further squeezing the edge of the platform.

"Tony was-I was getting payback for-" you tried.

"So you kissed him? Great payback."

"We didn't kiss." you growled, feeling a clash of your sadness with indignation that truly had no right existing.

"Looked like it."

"Clint, _listen."_ you implored, eager to explain your side of the story.

"No, _you_ listen!" Clint snapped, his gaze coming to meet yours with a ferocity you hadn't seen before. It stopped you in your tracks, tackling your indignation out of the way to make place for more sadness.

"I thought that I could trust you, and you threw it in my face."

"You _can_ trust me." you responded, your voice coming out much more weak and pathetic sounding than you had intended. There goes the back of your eyes burning again.

You watched as he pushed himself up again, glaring down at you once he stood.

"Prove it."

He stalked off back to the Tower, leaving you to stare at the spot where he had stood while your eyes pooled over.  Proving yourself was a sound theory, but by Clint's demeanor it appeared that it was going to be no simple task. The first time it had taken trying to save his life for him to trust you, and that was when you were nothing him, a total stranger. Now that it was for personal reasons?

You looked back over the edge, letting the tears roll across your cheeks and disappear down to the streets below. You knew that sitting around crying wasn't going to solve any problems, but you needed the release to bring your heart back from the tipping point.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder and you whipped your head around, some vain hope in you expecting Clint, but instead you found Natasha standing over you, her expression hard to place. You brought up a hand to wipe your eyes, facing forward out of a mix of embarrassment and shame while Natasha came to sit beside you. She remained silent as you cleaned yourself up, waiting until you gave a heavy, shaken sigh to speak.

"Did you kiss Tony?" she asked bluntly. Even the tone in her voice was difficult to accurately define.

"And look at me when you answer."

When your eyes connected, you felt hers boring into your own, as though digging deeper and deeper with each second, straight through and into the recesses of your brain.

"No." you replied, sadness taking the chance to make your voice waver despite the shortness of your answer.

She continued to stare at you for a few more seconds, even as your eyes began to gloss over again, before finally relenting.

"Good. If you had, I would have had to add you to my list of enemies."

The edging smile in her voice made it sound as though she were joking, though you had a feeling she was doing anything but. Rather than answer, you remained silent and stood, suddenly finding yourself wanting to go for a walk. After turning, you made it a few steps forward before Natasha's voice brought you to a halt.

"Clint lets his emotions get the better of him sometimes. Give him some time."

You looked back to her, uncertain about a response. It was kind of her to try to reassure you, but at that time it felt as though at what she was saying couldn't have been any further from the truth. Moments later you were back inside, throwing a glance at the bar. Something urged you to go over, telling you drown today away, but you resisted, instead stepping into the elevator and lowering yourself to the ground floor. You moved through the lobby, unable to stop yourself thinking about the last time and Clint had gone through there. You managed to avoid looking at his jeep after you exited, though you acknowledged that its presence meant that he was still around.

Throngs of people passed you as you walked, each with their own separate sounds, some shouting into phones, some talking to those close by, all of them trying to be heard over  else and accumulating into massive walls of noise that disrupted your thoughts and left you feeling annoyed. Soon as the opportunity presented itself you slipped into the space between two buildings, escaping the hustle and bustle in favour of some solitude away from the Tower. You slowed your pace, digging your hands into your jacket pockets and letting your gaze slide over the filthy ground. Different pieces of trash, trodden flat by careless footsteps, decorated the otherwise bland grey concrete. Your foot connected with a half crushed can, sending it skittering away. As if in response, something solid pressed into the back of your head.

The familiar click of a gun being readied filled your ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, this chapter feels pretty poopy. I don't have the same gusto as I used to writing this, so it's more difficult to write entertaining chapters. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!


	25. Chapter 25

You waited. Waited for whoever's hands your life was in to say what they wanted. Money, maybe information,  _anything_ really. But there were no words for the longest time and you simply remained there, frozen. What plan of action you could you possibly take? Given ample opportunity you would have a chance to save your own skin; Years of on the job practice had not been wasted. But when, if ever, would you actually get a chance? How could nobody on the street see what was going on? You hadn't even gotten that far into the alley in the first place.

Your attacker rectified that by digging the barrel in harder until you moved forward, right out of sight. But they didn't stop there either. Trust your luck to have you enter the most abandoned alleyway in New York City. The walls on either side peeled with long forgotten notices and varying filth, not unlike the ground that was painted an assortment of colours by the multitude of trash ground into it. Now there was worry on the rise in you. Surely if all they had wanted was to rob you they would have done it by now?

"Keep moving." a voice reminded you, though you hadn't even stopped. It was a gruff voice, but there was something all too artificial about it, like the owner was trying to disguise themselves, though it was definitely male.

The path came to an intersection where there was the option to go left or continue straight on to more alley. Closed doors all along the straight path looked rusted and long neglected, and you wondered if you were being led to one. Maybe some sort of crime gang?

"This way."

Your attacker's left hand came to your left bicep. The gun lowered down to your back. You didn't need an invitation.

You swung your body around, catching a glimpse of your attacker's bewildered eyes with the motion. They had a scarf and hood obscuring the majority of their face, but from the area you could see surrounding the eyes, you hazarded a guess at around mid 20's. Nice shade of blue in the irises too.

You snapped your forearm up, trapping his own against your body and effectively locking the gun pointing past from you. The elbow you threw up connected badly and only struck the collarbone, but the knee between the legs was right on target and invited strangled spluttering while he keeled over. Your free hand climbed over to snatch the barrel of the gun, wrenching it out of grip and messily positioning it to point at him while you stepped back. For the first time you got a proper look at your assailant. Dark green cargo trousers and a jet black hoodie prevented any skin showing save for his hands. With his jackknifed stance you could no longer see the area around his eyes, but all in all he seemed like a simple mugger. Nothing particularly sinister about him. No need to shoot. Just let the police deal with it.

"Get down on the ground!" you yelled, hoping you sounded more powerful than you felt. In truth you weren't even entirely sure you were holding the weapon correctly.

Then his head snapped up to you again, fear wide in his eyes. It almost made you feel sorry for him how petrified he seemed to be, but then it softened and his pupils flickered to something past your head. You hadn't even time to turn before sudden, blunt pain to the back of your head was blanking you out and you hit the ground. The gun skittered across the ground while you fought to work through your quickly blurring vision and hearing. It didn't make matters easier when your original assailant's foot connected to your midriff and knocked the air from you with a choked cry of pain.

"Enough." a new voice echoed. It was much deeper than the first, but sounded far off, as though speaking through a megaphone from a ways away rather than standing right above you.

"I thought we was gonna rough her up?" wondered the artificial voice.

"Not _here_." the deeper one growled.

He spoke more, likely explaining himself, but the words and the world around you were lost along with your consciousness.

\----

Rope. Very tight rope. Too tight. It was the first thing to register with you the moment your brain decided to wake up again. It bound your wrists to the armrests of the chair you had been sat on. Or, at least you believed it to be a chair. The bag around your head made it hard to tell. Your legs were bound too, bound to the same whatever-it-was you were sitting on. You worked on slowing down your frantic breaths, desperate to hear over yourself to find out if there was anybody around. Your face heated up as your own breath bounced off of the bag and back into your face.

"Sounds like she's awake." there goes that fake voice again. Why were they trying to hide it if they had taken you elsewhere?

"Now it's time for a little payback."

Footsteps approached you, deliberate and strong. You were fairly certain they sourced from your left, and by the way they echoed, you must have been in some sort of spacious place. A warehouse, perhaps?

"No." the deeper voice brought the footsteps to an end.

"Change of plan. She wants information."

You could have sworn you heard a dismayed grunt from the closer of the two, and while they busied themselves you hazarded a test at your hand binds. There was just barely any room to wiggle, but certainly not enough to offer an escape. Either way, you had no vision and for all you knew your kidnappers could be armed to the teeth. Not a great idea.

"Fine, but _I'm_ doin' the persuadin'."

Once more the echoed sound of footsteps made their way toward you, this time from the right. They were slower, more reserved, and by the time they stopped you were sure their owner was within arm's length.

"Tell us what you found out about the Stark file."

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion under the bag. Stark file? Surely not the one...

"What Stark file?" you asked, voice sounding more confident than you felt.

There was a silence, and a brief shuffling of fabric before a hand clamped through the bag to your hair and jerked your head backward. Painfully.

"Don't play dumb with us, girl. We ain't playin' around." the younger one warned.

Something cold and thin ghosted along your neck, and lingered for a few moments before leaving. At the same time, your hair was released and you burst a quick sigh while righting your head.

"Now, once more. Spill the beans."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" you insisted.

You hissed when the slim object made a return, this time dancing along the back of your constricted hand. It was eager to dig in, and you could guess its owner was too.

"Guess we'll start at the wrist and work our way toward the fingers, eh?" fake or not, the voice most definitely carried a smile in it.

Another pause. Giving you a chance, perhaps. Even if you _had_ something to say, you liked to think you wouldn't have ratted out one of your new teammates. Especially one you had probably hurt enough already in the past few days. Words that didn't escape your lips were replaced by a cry of pain when the weapon was dragged swiftly and opened up the skin on the back of your hand. Already you could feel the warmth of your own blood trickling out.

"Let me jog your memory."

The weapon returned to the wound, licking the blood around the edges and occasionally trailing across it to invite more sparks of pain.

"You made a deal. An important deal with a  _very_ powerful woman." the condescending tone of his voice didn't make matters easier.

"And then, like a little _rat_." he emphasized the word with another prick at your hand, further down than the last.

"You went back on your word and decided not to bring back the file." the weapon traced another line across your skin. Planned it out.

"But that's not it!" he laughed through his words.

"Not only did you not bring it back, but you went ahead and joined the freakin' Avengers!"

"Isn't that- isn't it funny?" by the way the direction of the voice changed, it sounded as though he had directed the question to his companion, though didn't receive any response. It didn't dampen his gusto.

"Two years. Two years preparin' to take a file." the sudden shift back to a deadly serious tone was jarring.

"And then the girl she hires to do it goes and joins the Avengers! Jeez, it's like a freakin' Shakespeare!"

"Enough." a third voice made itself known in the room. You had only heard it once before in a very brief phone call but it was instantly recognizable. Unique. Calm. Confident. In control.

The voice of Karma was not an easy one to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! Sorry it's only 1500 words tho >3>

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Did you enjoy that? If I may ask, could you consider leaving a comment to let me know, even if if you absolutely hated it? Thanks!


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